


Big Brother: Wolf Wars

by scribblemoose



Series: Teen Wolf: Reality [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Big Brother/Teen Wolf crossover, Crack, F/M, Fluff, M/M, No Hale Fire, Reality TV, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Stiles being Stiles, Stiles-centric, big brother uk, epic Sciles bromance is epic, epic Sterek, just for fun, sap, serious about the sap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-05
Updated: 2016-03-02
Packaged: 2018-05-12 00:04:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 34
Words: 88,595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5646703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribblemoose/pseuds/scribblemoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles thinks taking part in a special edition of Big Brother in England might be a cool thing to do after graduating High School. He ends up with a lot more than he bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Week One: Day 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU; nobody has met before except Derek and his sister Cora, and whether or not werewolves exist is left to the discretion of the reader. ;)
> 
> This is a finished story which I posted it in 'real' time, as if it were excerpts from the Big Brother Highlights Show. 
> 
> I don't think you need to know very much about Big Brother to enjoy the story, but bear in mind it's the British version, so the main announcer's voice should ideally be read in a Geordie accent. :D
> 
> Thanks to Kis for the encouragement and the betaing, to Nicki for keeping me company in the library while I wrote a lot of it (even though she'll probably never read it), and to whoever had the awesome stroke of genius that putting a bunch of people into a weird house with cameras would be a fun thing to do. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it. :)

**_It's Day One in the Big Brother House. Last night fourteen people from the United States became the lastest housemates. Stiles, Scott, Matt, Jackson, Boyd, Isaac, Danny, Peter, Lydia, Erica, Allison, Kate, Derek and his sister Cora have been settling in._ **

**_10:35 am. Stiles and Lydia are making coffee in the kitchen._ **

Stiles leans against the counter, wondering what to do with his hands, and stares at Lydia. He hasn't seen a girl quite as beautiful as Lydia in his entire life. She's stabbing a spoon at the foil seal on the coffee jar with a targeted violence that's honestly terrifying in its precision.

"So," Stiles says. "This is weird."

"Pass me that knife," Lydia says, not taking her eyes off the jar. 

Stiles obeys her with a smile that she doesn't notice. She slices into the foil, releasing a warm, rich aroma of ground coffee. Stiles valiantly tries again. "I mean, here we are. In the Big Brother House. All of us. Weird."

"If we weren't weird we wouldn't be on reality television. Unless we needed to raise money for college fees, because our father is a pointless waste of space with a gambling addiction living in a seedy apartment in Vegas."

Stiles swallows. "Suddenly I feel lucky to be weird."

"Jug," says Lydia. 

"Sorry?"

"Pass me the jug, you idiot. For the coffee?"

"Ah, jug, right." Stiles scans the counter-top, and finds a large cafetiere next to the electric kettle. Everything looks British. Who would have thought that a kitchen could actually look British? The fridge is tiny. He picks up the cafetiere. "This?"

"Yes. You must be cleverer than you look."

Stiles lets himself smirk. "You too," he says.

*

**_11:15am. Big Brother has called the housemates outside for a sandcastle competition. The winners of the task will get a special prize._ **

There are seven sandboxes spread over the grass in the garden, each with a pair of names written on the side. Stiles doesn't spot his name at first. Lydia's with the old guy in the stupid leather jacket, Peter; Erica's with the imposing Boyd; Allison's with the creepy guy, Matt. Derek's sister - Cora? - is dragging him off to their sandbox at the other end of the garden. He looks like he would rather be in a cauldron of boiling oil than here. 

"Hey, dude, looks like you're with me."

Stiles turns to see a guy with dark hair, sweet brown eyes and a ridiculously goofy smile. His name badge says Scott, and so does the label on the sandbox he's standing next to. It's right next to one that says 'Stiles'. 

Stiles grins back. "Cool, man."

"We gonna win this, then?"

"Yeah, we are."

They don't win. But they end the task in a helpless heap of giggles, with sand in places sand should never go, and it feels like Stiles has known this guy forever. 

**_6.55 pm. Lydia and Peter are enjoying their luxury dinner in the Sky Room._ **

Stiles joins Kate and Matt in the smoking area, even though he doesn't smoke and doesn't like either of them very much. 

He can see the glass-fronted Sky Room from there.

It's not like he doesn't think Lydia can look after herself. But he wants to keep an eye open, all the same. He trusts Peter about as far as he can throw him.

**_9.15 pm. Stiles is in the diary room, talking to Big Brother._ **

Big Brother: Hello, Stiles.

Stiles: (Wriggling in the huge red chair.) Hello. Big Brother. Um. Don't take this the wrong way, but you sound a lot more like a sister than a brother, if you get my meaning.

Big Brother: Gender is a fluid concept, Stiles. How's your first day in the Big Brother house?

Stiles: Good! Yeah, great, actually. 

Big Brother: What do you think of your fellow housemates?

Stiles: They're cool! Especially Scott. Man, we're having so much fun. I think we can be good friends, you know? He's my bro. 

Big Brother: Is there anyone else you feel particularly drawn to?

Stiles: Um… well, Lydia's beautiful but she's kinda scary. Danny's sweet, and Allison. I haven't really talked to anyone else except for small talk. I should do that, huh? Me and Scott were going to get a game of Truth and Dare going, bring people out of their shells a bit, you know?

Big Brother: It sounds like you've found a friend, Stiles.

Stiles: (Grins broadly.) He's m'bro, BB.

*

**_11.55 pm The housemates are reorganising their sleeping arrangements._ **

Scott has persuaded his bedmate from the first night, Matt, to swap beds with Stiles, so Scott and Stiles can share. Stiles is delighted, and not just because he hadn't wanted to spend another night sleeping next to Jackson 'kick you in my sleep' Whittemore. Sharing a bed with Scott is as comfortable as a fluffy blanket on a cold night, and for the first time since they entered the house, Stiles starts to feel just a little bit at home.

He notices Derek arranging his identical selection of black vest shirts into the drawer under the bed he's sharing with his sister. Isaac, Boyd and Erica are sprawled out over the mega-big bed next to him. They're watching him too. 

Stiles finds himself thinking about orgies, and realises with horror that it will be at least two weeks before he can jerk off. 

He really didn't think this through.

*


	2. Week One: Day Three

**_It's Day Three in the Big Brother House._ **

**_10.38 am. Big Brother has gathered the housemates on the sofas._ **

Stiles sits between Scott and Lydia, one leg jiggling. He can't stop it, no matter how hard Lydia stares at him. He's nervous. One minute he was having a perfectly ordinary conversation with Scott about how ridiculous it is that a country that could make such brilliant chocolate failed so horribly when it came to peanut butter, and the next minute, they were ordered to the sofas. Everyone knows this is bad news. Sofas means Big Brother is going to _do_ something to them. 

_~Housemates.~_

It’s the female Big Brother again, but her voice is stern and echoey, nothing like the soothing tones Stiles heard in the Diary Room. 

_~For this week's shopping task the house has been divided into werewolves and hunters. You will complete a number of challenges over the next two days, and your success in completing these challenges will determine whether or not you get a luxury shopping budget for next week. Housemates: Peter, Scott, Derek, Cora, Erica, Boyd and Isaac are the werewolves. Kate, Allison, Jackson, Lydia, Stiles, Danny and Matt, you are the hunters.~_

"Crap," says Jackson. "How come Scott's a freakin' werewolf and I'm not?"

"It's nothing to do with me," says Scott. "It's not like I asked for it."

Jackson glares at him.

"Housemates will find equipment for the task in the store room."

There's a bit of a scrummage as the housemates pile into the store room to see what they've got. There are costumes: the hunters have Hunger Games-style leather outfits, while the werewolves have furry jackets and accessories, including ears. Scott's ears are fluffy and adorable, and Stiles wonders if he'd let him draw a nose and whiskers on him with Lydia's eye liner. He relaxes a bit. The task doesn't seem too bad, and he's all for leather and fur.

But nothing has prepared him for the sight of Derek Hale in big black ears with an actual pin-on _tail_.

Stiles knows it's something he'll never, ever forget.

*

**_3.23 pm. Some of the housemates are in the garden._ **

Stiles lies on his front, fiddling with the fletching on an arrow while Scott does laps of the pool in his (now soggy) ears. Jackson threw him in about fifteen minutes ago, but Scott laughed it off. Lydia is pretty confident they can dry the ears off with a hairdryer later. It would be annoying to fail the task just because Big Brother didn't like Scott with droopy, wet wolf-ears. 

They make him look more like a puppy than ever, though. An adorable puppy.

Jackson's moved on to torment someone else now. Specifically, Derek. Derek, Cora and Peter are sitting by the gazebo, all sprawled together. It's hot. Derek has taken his shirt off and is glistening in the sunshine, but Jackson's whining and Derek is looking grumpier by the minute.

Stiles keeps an eye on him, just in case he throws Jackson in the pool. Because that would be awesome. 

It's handy that Peter's in the same place, because Stiles is keeping an eye on him, too. Lydia claims he behaved impeccably in the Sky Room but Stiles doesn't trust him. In a mysterious werewolf-only task earlier that the hunters weren't allowed to watch, Peter became an 'Alpha' - the leader of the pack. He's spent a lot of time since with Derek and Cora, and Stiles isn't entirely happy about the relaxed attitude Derek has around him. It's all very unnerving. 

The hunter's task was an archery competition (hence the arrow). Stiles discovered he sucked at archery, as did most of them - even Jackson, which didn't do anything to improve his temper. The contest narrowed quickly to Allison and Kate, with Kate finally winning when Allison was temporarily distracted by Jackson making stupid howling noises. Kate became the leader of the hunters with Allison her second-in-command. So far she'd given them a long (and scarily detailed) lecture on the five ways to kill someone with an arrow, and then wandered off to put on a bikini which Stiles thinks is far from age-appropriate. As Lydia points out, it isn't good to be flashing that much boob at a bunch of college students at her age.

She seems to be especially keen on flashing them at Derek. 

Stiles doesn't like that at all.

*

**_10.42 pm The moon's up in the Big Brother house, and the hunters are hunting for werewolves. The werewolves are hiding. The wolves don't know that every hunter must find one werewolf before the moon sets, or else they will fail this week's shopping task._ **

Stiles considers his options. Kate has gone after Peter (she's welcome), and Lydia and Jackson are making a two-pronged attack on Derek and Cora. Derek thinks he's hiding in the shadows in the gazebo, but he's not fooling anyone. Stiles' first attempt was obviously Scott, but to his surprise when he went to look in the storeroom (Scott is so predictable) he found that Allison beat him to it. The two of them were sitting in the corner by the chickpeas, deep in conversation, so Stiles backed away and came to the kitchen to re-group.

Erica, Boyd or Isaac?

The sofa area and the kitchen are completely silent. Out in the garden Stiles can hear Derek and Jackson yelling at each other. The wolves wouldn't all have gone to the same place, so the other three must be in here somewhere. 

He knows Danny headed for the bathroom and Matt for the bedroom. That only leaves…. 

The Skyroom.

Stiles slips out of the big patio door into the paved area. Everyone's focused on the argument by the pool so he has no problem creeping unnoticed to the steps that lead up to the Sky Room. 

He's at the top when he hears a whimper. He opens the door.

"Erica?"

She's huddled under a blanket under the table, hugging her knees to her chest. Stiles kneels down in front of her and takes her hand. It's trembling.

"D-don't look down," Erica whispers.

"Why?" Stiles looks down but he can't see anything through the bottom of the glass floor but the dim shadows of pots and decking below.

"You can see through the floor," Erica squeaks. "I don't like heights, Stiles. It's freaking me out. Can you help me get down from here? Please?"

And that's how Stiles caught his werewolf.

*

**_It's 11:56 pm, and all the housemates are in bed._ **

Stiles misses Scott. Hunters must remain within three feet of their werewolves at all times, which means he's had to abandon his usual bed and climb into Erica's. That wouldn't be so bad - he's quite enjoying her gratitude and likes the idea of being a knight in shining armour - but Erica's bed is the three-people one she used to share with Boyd and Isaac. Danny took Boyd off to his bed, but Isaac - and therefore Matt - stayed.

Four is most definitely a crowd.

And Isaac's sweater's itchy.

*


	3. Week One: Day Four

**_It's Day Four in the Big Brother House.  
9:28 am. The housemates are having a lazy start to the day._ **

Stiles lies on his back, keeping very still because Erica is sprawled on top of him wearing only a tight vest top and skimpy underwear, and he's trying hard not to be inappropriate. He likes Erica well enough but she's really not his type. And way out of his league. And he doesn't want to be the guy who is shown on TV taking advantage of some girl's loneliness and intense need for cuddling to cop a feel. So he lies tense and respectfully strokes her hair.

He glances in Scott's direction in the hope of a bit of brotherly solidarity, but all he can see is tufts of dark hair poking above the duvet. Scott and Allison are snuggled right underneath, and there's movement going on that Stiles can't quite watch - or stop watching.

The window screens roll back with a loud rumble, and the bedroom floods with light. Erica complains into Stiles' chest and cuddles in to him. 

"For God's sake," Isaac mutters. "Don't you two start."

"Nothing's starting," Stiles snaps. His general disposition towards Isaac hasn't improved overnight: Isaac wriggles a lot and growls in his sleep. "Fuck, what is it with you and the attitude?"

"You stole a third of my bed," Isaac says. "I don't share."

"You mean I stole half your bedmates, jerk-off."

There's a sudden pain in Stiles' hand and Isaac yelps. Erica's nails are sinking into their soft fleshy palms. "Boys," she hisses. "I'm trying to sleep. Play nice."

Isaac and Stiles stare at each other over the soft waves of her hair, eyes narrowed, and establish a silence, if not exactly a peace.

There's a loud thump from the other end of the room. 

Derek's just shoved Jackson out of bed.

*

**_10.15 am. Stiles and Erica are in the bathroom pondering some logistical issues._ **

"I'm having a shower." Erica's determined voice is very… determined. 

"I have to stay within three feet of you. _Three feet._ "

"Don't you have a shower every day?"

"Of course I do! But not with another person! Especially not a naked, lady-type person! No! That I do not do!"

"Suit yourself," says Erica, and drops her robe. She has stepped, completely naked, into the shower before Stiles even remembers not to look. 

When he does remember, he spins around and squeezes his eyes tight shut, even though it's too late.

"You should come on in," Erica purrs. "The water's lovely."

"Nah," Stiles squeaks. "I'm good."

He's such a liar.

*

**_12.17 pm  
Today, housemates are being called to the diary room for the first round of nominations. This week the hunters can only nominate werewolves, and the werewolves can only nominate hunters. They cannot nominate themselves, or their partner for this week's task. First up to nominate is Stiles._ **

Big Brother: Stiles, could you give the name of your first nomination, and explain your reasons for this nomination.

Stiles: My first nomination is Peter. The guy gives me the creeps, to be honest. I don't like the way he is around Lydia, and this whole alpha thing has gone to his head. He's got Derek doing whatever he says, and even Scott's been listening to his bullshit stories. I don't like it. Especially the Lydia part.

Big Brother: Thank you, Stiles. Now give the name of your second nomination, and the reasons for this nomination.

Stiles: Okay, this is hard, this guy is nothing like as bad as Peter. If I could I'd nominate Matt, I just want that out there, he's kind of evil, you know? Seriously evil. But he's a hunter so…. My second nomination is Isaac.

Big Brother: Please give your reasons for nominating Isaac.

Stiles: Is knitwear a reason?

(Pause, during which Stiles drums his fingertips on the arms of the big, purple diary-room chair.)

Big Brother: Big Brother needs you to know that knitwear is not a valid reason for nominating Isaac. 

Stiles: Seriously? I mean, it's really annoying, he must be sweating like a pig and last night I accidentally got a mouthful of angora when I was trying to go to sleep.

Big Brother: Knitwear is not a valid reason. Please give a proper reason for your nomination, Stiles.

Stiles: Okay, okay, keep your eyeball on. Well, he wasn't very welcoming when we had to share a bed. And he's partnered with Matt, so I'm worried the evil will rub off on him. Oh, and he has a really bad attitude. He told me he'd beat me to a pulp if he found out I'd harassed Erica in the shower. I mean, seriously? It's not like Erica isn't perfectly capable of beating me to a pulp without any help from him whatsoever. And anyway, I would never do that, and I'm pretty insulted he'd even insinuate… For fuck's sake, he doesn't even know me! And another thing, he's so pathetic the way he's trying to get in with Derek and Scott. He was all over Derek at breakfast, saying how much he liked his sunglasses and asking him to teach him to wrestle. Not that I care, of course I don't care, the guy just makes me cringe. And then with Scott, he's all 'look at me all wet and dripping from the pool, wanna hang out?' So needy. Very, very needy. Is that enough?

(Pause)

Big Brother: Your reasons are satisfactory for Big Brother, Stiles. You may now rejoin your housemates.

*

Stiles hi-fives Scott on his way out of the diary room, as Scott's on his way in. 

"How was it?" Scott asks. "I like everyone! This is going to be so hard." 

"You'll be fine, buddy. Just tell it like it is," says Stiles. The diary room door swings open for Scott and he bounds in.

Stiles goes back to the living area, where everyone's been gathered on the sofas to wait to take their turn nominating. They all want to know how it was, but Stiles is distracted by Isaac. He's all hunched in on himself, pressed against the back of the sofa. He looks terrified.

"It's okay," Stiles says. "Shitty, but, you know. It's a game, right?"

Isaac blinks at him, and Stiles feels like crap.

*

**_5.41 pm Some of the housemates are preparing dinner._ **

Stiles is chopping onions under Boyd's watchful eye, and trying very hard not to talk about nominations. It's difficult. Vital, because talking about nominations is Not Allowed and can lead to whole-house punishments, and Stiles very much doesn't want to be that guy. Not just because they'd probably then all nominate him, if they haven't already - Stiles is under no illusion that he will last longer than a few weeks - but because he has to live with these people and he doesn't want to piss them all off. Especially Lydia. Well, mostly Lydia.

He glances up at the mirror behind the kitchen counter and takes in three things at once: his own reflection, Lydia painting Cora's nails at the dining table behind him, and the eerie suggestion of a camera through the glass. It's weird; you can only see through when the light falls a particular way, and you do kind of forget the cameras are there after a while, sort of.

Stiles shudders and gets his eyes back on the onions.

"So, Boyd," he says. "Who d'you think'll be up for eviction?"

Boyd rinses cabbage and says nothing.

*

**_10.10pm This week's nominations are being announced live on Big Brother's Bit on the Side. Big Brother has gathered the housemates to hear the news._ **

Stiles sits between Scott and Erica, holding hands with both of them; Scott's grip strong and reassuring, Erica's vice-like and determined. Allison is tucked under Scott's arm, her hand on his thigh. 

"It could be a surprise eviction," Jackson says. 

"Not at this time of night," says Lydia. "Eviction shows start earlier than this."

"Besides, nobody's been nominated yet," says Kate. 

"Unless we're all up and the nominations were fake," says Jackson. 

"Shut up, Jackson," says Derek.

Derek's sitting on the end of the sofa opposite, with his arms folded across his chest. Jackson is next to him but not touching. They're glaring at each other as the lighting changes and the big plasma screen comes on. 

_~Housemates, this is Rylan.~_

"Aww, I love Rylan," Erica whispers.

_~This week housemates have nominated for the first time, and here on Big Brother's Bit on the Side I can exclusively reveal the results of those nominations.~_

Stiles took a deep breath.

_~However.~_

For a second Stiles thinks Jackson was right. They are going to skip noms and go straight to an eviction, and fuck, that means he could go, right now, this could be the end. And suddenly Stiles is more convinced than he's ever been of anything in his whole life that he really, really wants to stay.

"Don't worry, man," Scott murmurs. "You and me 'til the end, 'kay?"

"Shh," says Erica. "Listen."

_~What housemates did not know is that this week there will be a double eviction. It won't just be one of the wolves leaving the house. They will take their hunter with them.~_

There's a buzz of surprise and Stiles hears Jackson's "Oh, crap." Stiles desperately scans the room, trying to work out who's most likely to go. 

_~The housemates nominated for eviction this week are: Peter.~_

There's boos from the studio, which Stiles takes as a positive sign towards Peter losing the public vote. Allison looks stricken, though: she seems quite close to Kate, who's Peter's hunter.

_~Isaac~_

Isaac looks instantly and totally crushed, and Stiles swallows hard, stifling his inner cheer that it means Matt's up too. He realises suddenly that Isaac didn't deserve that. Not for being annoying and wearing sweaters. Stiles looks down, ashamed.

_~Derek~_

Derek shrugs; Jackson's fists clench on his knees. There's not just anger there though, there's something else in his eyes, in the downcast turn of his mouth. Guilt? Stiles frowns.

_~And~_

Erica grips Stiles' hand tighter still.

_~Scott~_

"No!" Stiles yells, even as Erica slumps next to him in relief. "What? That makes no sense!"

The word 'Peter' flashes up on the screen, followed by a rapid montage of people saying his name in the diary room. Stiles, Scott, Allison, Erica, Boyd, Danny, Isaac. 

'Isaac' comes up: Stiles again (there's a gasp from the others), Allison, Peter, Cora, Lydia. Cora mouths 'sorry' at Isaac, but Isaac doesn't register it. He looks utterly betrayed.

'Derek' is next: Kate, Jackson ("Yeah, thought so," says Derek, while a rumble of shock goes round the room), Boyd, Isaac, Matt.

And finally, Scott's name comes up: Kate (Allison shoots her a poisonous look), Matt, Peter, Derek. Stiles flings his arms around Scott's neck only to find Allison's already there, pulling him in for a three-way hug. 

"Derek?" says Stiles. "That's an asshole move."

Derek glares at him, and Stiles wonders why he's so surprised that Derek nominated Scott. The guy's a jerk.

Obviously.

*

**_1.35 am_ **

Matt and Isaac sleep back-to-back, not touching. Erica is curled up in Isaac's arms, and Stiles lies on his side, right at the very edge of the bed, completely and entirely awake.

Scott and Allison come into the bedroom. They've been up in the Sky Room ever since nominations, refusing all attempts to get them to come down and have the refreshments Big Brother provided. 

Scott pauses to squeeze Stiles' shoulder as he passes his bed. 

"If I go on Friday-" he starts.

"No," says Stiles, firmly. "You won't."

"Buddy-"

"It won't be you," says Stiles. "I know it won't. Now stop being such a drama queen, and go to bed."

"G'night, Stiles," says Scott, softly, and follows Allison to their Duvet of Love.

Stiles flings an arm over his eyes.

He's glad the camera can't pick up tears in the dark.

*

_**As the housemates go to sleep feeling emotional, eight of them face eviction on Friday. In pairs, the housemates nominated are: Peter and Kate. Scott and Allison. Isaac and Matt. Derek and Jackson. Two of them will go - which two? You decide. Here are the numbers to call…** _


	4. Week One: Day Five

_**It's day five in the Big Brother House.  
9.03 am. Stiles and Erica are sitting by the pool.** _

"Look," says Stiles, sloshing water about with his feet. "I'm sorry about Isaac. If I could have a do-over, I'd do it differently."

"It's him you should be talking to," says Erica. 

"And I will. I'm waiting for the right moment."

She rolls her eyes at him.

"I am! Communications are delicate in a place like this, and it might look bad if he flies off the handle. I want to make sure he doesn't get evicted."

"Well, the first step would have been not to fucking nominate him." Erica does not look pleased. Stiles is certain that there will be no more cuddles from Erica, whatever happens.

"I had to nominate someone," Stiles says, in a small voice. 

Erica jumps into the pool and swims away. As her hunter, Stiles has no option but to follow her. The pool is way too cold at this time in the morning, and Erica swims like an Olympic champion, leaving him to splash and flail, gasping in her wake.

It's no less than he deserves. 

*

_**11.30am. The wolves are enjoying the sunshine in the garden.** _

Stiles is so over Peter being the alpha that it's not even funny. It turns out Peter is the kind of guy who bears a grudge. A serious grudge. Suddenly everyone who nominated him is on a blacklist, and that includes Stiles.

Lydia did not nominate Peter. Which makes it very easy for Peter to get at Stiles, because he knows full well that every time he so much as breathes on her it makes Stiles' skin crawl like an army of ants at a picnic. 

Right now, he's breathing on her a lot. He's sitting in the gazebo like a fucking king of somewhere. Lydia is sitting there with him, on account of her delicate skin requiring shade. The other wolves (apart from Scott) are sprawled out on the grass in front of the gazebo in skimpy swimwear, all glistening skin and muscles. It's terrible. And because he has no choice, Stiles is sitting less than three feet away with the other hunters (except Allison), seething every time Peter puts his evil little face right up to Lydia's ear to whisper something.

Derek has his head in Kate's lap. She's running her fingers over his chest in a very un-huntery way. In fact it's a very seductressy-way. 

Stiles does not approve.

*

_**3.15 pm. Big Brother has given the Hunters a secret task, to extract some information from the werewolves so that they can bring down the alpha. If they can get the wolves to divulge the facts Big Brother has requested, housemates will earn points towards this week's shopping task.** _

"Allison," Kate says. "You're our secret weapon. Scott's gonna spill at least half of these questions before you even get to second base."

"What? No! He trusts me," says Allison. "D'you seriously expect me to trick him?"

"Well, d'uh," says Kate.

"You want to get to know him better, don't you?" says Lydia. 

"Of course I do! But privately! Not to win a task."

"Don't you think," Lydia says, "he'd tell you anyway, if he knew it was to win the shopping task? He wouldn't want everyone to be on basic rations, would he?"

"She's right," says Stiles. "He wouldn't want anyone to go hungry."

Allison still looks conflicted. 

"You lot are hopeless," says Kate. 

"Have you got a better idea?" says Stiles.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Kate's smile is slow and sly. 

"Well, yeah, if we're going to pass the task," says Stiles. "It would help if we knew the plan."

"The plan is, you are not in the plan. You know what they say, if you need a job doing, do it yourself. I'll be doing this myself. Trust me. The rest of you just pussyfoot around and see how far that gets you."

"That's not fair," Allison says. "It's just difficult with Scott, that's all."

"Hmm," says Lydia, thoughtfully.

There's something Stiles doesn't like about that 'Hmm'.

*

_**3.35pm. Most of the hunters have rejoined their wolves in the garden.** _

There's a bunch of empty Prosecco bottles scattered in the grass around the wolves, and they're lying there mellow with alcohol and sun. Jackson's sitting with his back to Derek, glaring at the swimming pool. Erica's lying on a sunlounger with Boyd and Danny on one side and Isaac and Matt on the other. The four boys are playing a kind of paper-plate frisbee game, with Erica as the net. Stiles is about to join in when he notices Lydia returning from the house on her own.

"Where's Allison?" Stiles asks.

"Diary room," says Lydia, and whispers something in Cora's ear. Cora shrugs.

Lydia grabs a bottle of sunblock and sits by Scott, who's lying on his front with his head resting on his folded arms. Stiles watches her tip a pool of the lotion between Scott's shoulder blades and begin to rub it in. He feels cold and hollow inside, and tries to catch Scott's attention, but Scott's all blissed out and sleepy, and just when Stiles is about to yell at him, he notices what Kate's doing.

She's straddled Derek's thighs and she's leaning over him, sticking her tongue out to lick across his stomach, up to his sternum. She pauses to take a suck at each of his nipples on her way to kiss him. He kisses her back. It's slurpy and messy and all tongue, and Stiles wants to gag. 

"That's gross," says Erica. "She's gotta be twice his age."

"Not really," says Isaac. "And however old she is, she's pretty hot."

Erica snatches the paper frisbee from him, crunches it into a ball and throws it at his head.

And then Lydia kisses Scott.

*

_**3.50pm. Stiles has been called to the diary room.** _

Big Brother: Hello Stiles.

Stiles: (Flings himself dramatically into the diary room chair.) 

Big Brother: Big Brother thought you might like a little time to yourself.

Stiles: Well, Big Brother's wrong. I want to go out there and tell a certain so-called 'werewolf' to remember who his fucking friends are!

Big Brother: Who are you angry with, Stiles?

Stiles: Scott! Who the fuck else?! Argh! (Thumps his fist on the arm of the chair.)

Big Brother: Big Brother understands that you're angry, Stiles, but Big Brother asks that you do not damage the diary room chair.

Stiles: Damage? Have you seen how fucking puny my muscles are? I couldn't damage this if I tried.

Big Brother: Please don't try to damage the chair, Stiles.

Stiles: (Sighs huffily.) I won't damage the chair.

Big Brother: Thank you, Stiles.

Stiles: I can't believe Scott let her do that. And yeah, I know he's really drunk. He's in the toilet puking his guts out now, but d'you know what? He deserves it. How could he do that? How could he let her lick him like that?

Big Brother: Who licked Scott, Stiles?

Stiles: Nobody. I said kiss. Lydia kissed him.

Big Brother: Big Brother thought you might have been talking about someone else.

Stiles: I don't know what you're talking about. It's Scott I'm mad at. I mean, man, he's with Allison, for fuck's sake. He knows I like Lydia. And what if the idiot pisses off the general public and gets himself evicted, huh? What am I supposed to do then?

Big Brother: Stiles, do you think Scott's sorry for what he did?

Stiles: Of course he is. Did you see the part where he was sobbing all over Allison, just before he threw up? He's really sorry, it was just the alcohol. Which, by the way, getting them all drunk? Made the task so much easier. So, thanks for that. 

Big Brother: Perhaps you should have a talk with Scott when he's sobered up.

Stiles: Yeah, yeah, I know. I'll go and take him some water. He's going to have a wicked hangover.

Big Brother: Do you feel better, Stiles?

Stiles: (Sulkily) No.

Big Brother: You can stay here as long as you like, Stiles.

Stiles: Nah, it's okay. (Sighs.) Go on, let me out. I'll go and make sure Scott hasn't died of drunk yet. I'll be nice.

Big Brother: Big Brother's always here if you want to talk, Stiles.

*

_**10.48pm. Stiles and Scott are in the bathroom, talking about Derek.** _

Stiles sinks to his neck in the bathwater, scooping bubbles around to cover his naked chest. 

"To be honest, I'm glad Derek nominated me," Scott says. He's sitting on the edge of the bath, pressing a cold flannel to his forehead. He still looks deathly pale. "I didn't want to nominate Boyd at all, but you have to nominate someone. It doesn't mean anything. But I can take it, it doesn't bother me."

"Nothing bothers you," says Stiles. "You're too in love with Allison to give a shit, right? Sooner everyone gets evicted, sooner you two can get past third base."

Scott blushes red. Bright red. Cherry-red. Stiles' eyes go wide. 

"Stoppit," says Scott.

"You didn't," says Stiles. "Already?"

Scott feigns a coughing fit, but gives Stiles a thumbs up behind his hand, where he thinks the cameras won't see.

Stiles claps him so hard on the back that Scott starts coughing for real.


	5. Week One: Day Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eviction Day!

**_It's day seven in the Big Brother House, and tonight the first eviction will take place._ **

**_8.47am. Big Brother is playing music into the house to wake up the housemates._ **

Music, Stiles realises, is one of those things that is everywhere, until it's not, and then you really, really miss it. He's not the only one. As soon as the first beats boom out of the speakers, a fresh energy sweeps into the house and people are instantly awake. Stiles and Scott leap out of bed to dance, and before long there's an impromptu rave going on in the middle of the bedroom.

It only lasts for one song, but by the time it's done Stiles is breathing hard and pumped with adrenalin; there's squealing and everyone's leaping around and hugging like idiots.

Well, not quite everyone. Stiles is laughing and twirling Scott around when he notices that Derek's still in bed, scowling at the ceiling like he's ready to kill someone. Stiles is guessing he's not a morning person. Then he realises Derek is not alone in his bed, and his bed-mate is not Jackson (who stomped to the bathroom as soon as the dancing started) but Kate.

"Hey, Scott. Have you seen what's going on over there?"

Scott glances over his shoulder in the direction Stiles is pointing. "Oh. Wow, Derek and Kate? I didn't see that coming."

"Seriously, Scott? You weren't there yesterday with all the licking and the horrible slurpy kissing?"

"I was drunk off my ass," says Scott, sheepishly.

"Yeah, and don't think I've forgiven you for that, either. Come on, let's go get some breakfast before those two start doing something gross enough to put me off my Cheerios."

Stiles shoots a glare at Derek on his way out of the bedroom, but Derek is too busy glaring himself to notice.

*

**_11.15am Stiles is doing some washing._ **

The lack of any kind of laundry facilities is one of the things about the Big Brother house that Stiles finds especially baffling. For his whole life up to this point, he has been stuffing his (and often his dad's) dirty clothes into a machine, taking them out an hour (or so) later and stuffing them in to another machine, after which they are dry, fluffy and ready to be stuffed into drawers. Apparently those machines are miracle-chambers, because the amount of hard labour they represent is astonishing. And they know things that Stiles hasn't a clue about. Like, how much swooshing around in soapy water do you actually have to do before something can be classed as clean? How many times should you rinse things? Is it more effective to wring stuff out in between rinses or doesn't it matter? Why do things go all stiff if you leave them drying in the sun too long? 

He's pondering these issues and humming to himself as he swooshes his socks around in a bowl by the outdoor shower. (Lydia forbade him from doing his washing anywhere else because of his inability to so much as rinse a dish cloth without flooding the immediate vicinity with soapy water.) 

He's also keeping an eye on Peter. Peter is in the gazebo with his wolves as usual - the identities of wolves and hunters remain as a series theme, apparently, although the three-foot rule has gone, thank fuck. Not that you'd know it to look at Scott and Allison, who are currently all cuddled up on one sun lounger worrying about how they will be able to breathe if Scott gets evicted. 

Peter's sitting on the bench, watching Kate run her fingers through Derek's hair. She's laughing, chatting with Derek and Cora, but there's nothing casual about Kate's conversation. Her mouth smiles, but her eyes are sharp as an eagle's. She's not really looking at Derek unless he looks at her. She's asking questions, about his life outside, his family, how close he is to his sister, if he ever gets into fights, why he hasn't got a job, whether he'll see her on the outside….

There's a wet splat on Stiles' foot as he drops a sock. He knows what Kate's doing. She doesn't really like Derek at all. She's trying to get him evicted, and fuck, not only is she a game player, she's good at it. Derek doesn't suspect a thing; he's telling her all this stuff that makes him sound arrogant and cocky in a way he isn't, really, and he's letting her get her creepy fingers on his scalp, and he's being filmed, the idiot. 

Stiles picks up his sock and chucks it back in the bowl, shaking his head. 

Peter's voice booms out over the garden a few seconds later.

"I think that's enough, Kate, don't you?"

Everyone goes still and quiet, even Scott and Allison, all eyes on Peter.

"I'm sorry, Peter," says Kate. "Enough what, exactly?"

"Leave the boy alone. If you want to exercise your little manipulations, try me. Come on, play with the big boys, why don't you?"

"You're delusional."

"You're a conniving little slut."

"Excuse me?"

"Come on, Kate, don't waste your time on a boy like Derek. Come get yourself a taste of a real man."

Kate's on her feet, she's standing right up in Peter's face and her fists are clenched, and Derek's getting up too, but Cora stops him with a steady hand on his shoulder. He looks confused. Stiles could almost feel sorry for the guy. 

Kate and Peter start yelling and it's about to get physical any second, you can feel it in the air, but before either of them can land a punch Big Brother calls Peter to the Diary Room. Kate screams her frustration at the top of her lungs, and stomps off to the bedroom. Allison runs after her, leaving Scott on the sun lounger, all forlorn.

Stiles smacks him playfully with a wet sock to cheer him up.

*

**_8.37pm Stiles and Scott are in the bathroom, getting ready for Eviction Night. Stiles is feeling emotional._ **

Scott is pulling a comb through his hair, which completely ignores these attempts at styling and insists on forming cute curls around his temples instead. 

"Dude," he says. "If I go tonight you can keep any of my hair stuff you want, okay?"

"You're not going anywhere, man." Stiles ignores the sting of tears in his eyes and concentrates on squirting a nice thick blob of toothpaste on his toothbrush. 

"Yeah, but if I do…. Allison says she's got a feeling."

"Everybody's got a feeling. Except Derek. I don't think he's ever had a feeling about anything in his life. It's weird. He's weird, right?"

"If she gets evicted because of me, I'll never forgive myself."

"Why? You've done nothing wrong, Scotty. What could you blame yourself for?"

"Lydia told me that Peter told her that we were just a showmance. Allison said Kate said the same thing to her."

"Woah, buddy, back that truck right up and park it. Kate is insane, I mean, her and Derek? There's your showmance, right there. And Peter's talking out of his stupid alpha arse as usual. Anyone can see that what you and Allison have is special."

"You never know what it looks like when they edit things, though. Allison's already worried what her father will think. She'd promised herself she wouldn't hook up with anyone in here. She wanted to be seen as an individual."

"And she hopped into your bed just the same. Her choice. It's nobody's fault that you're so devastatingly attractive, right? Except possibly your mother's, she could have passed on less genes, but what you gonna do, eh?"

Scott gives Stiles a cute, dimply smile and his cheeks flush pink. He's adorable in his goofiness. "I've no idea what she sees in me," he says.

"Well, I do," says Stiles. "And so does everyone else with half a brain. So ignore Peter and Kate. They're game-playing so hard they wouldn't know genuine human behaviour if it smacked them on the ass. Hang onto your hair products, you're going nowhere."

"Thanks, man."

"Except the RedKen Firm Grasp stuff. I totally need that more than you do."

"It's yours," says Scott. And they hug, really tight, and Stiles can't believe he's crying over a stupid game show.

*  
 ** _9.30 pm. The housemates are gathered on the sofas._**

**_~Big Brother House, this is Emma. Peter. Scott. Isaac. Derek. The viewers have spoken, your fate is sealed.~_ **

Stiles tries to process the crowd noise: Peter definitely got boos, and so did Derek. Scott got a huge cheer. He's smiling, clinging to Allison's hand. 

Allison got boos.

_~Since Wednesday the British public have been voting to evict not just the nominated werewolves, but the hunter who caught them. I can now reveal that the housemates with the most votes, and the first to be evicted, is….~_

Stiles holds his breath through the silence that follows, the wait interminable, the tension intolerable.

_~Peter.~_

The wolves gasp, the crowd outside cheers, and Stiles flings himself at Scott, hugging him and Allison. Out of the corner of his eye he spots Isaac, sprawled on the sofa opposite him like all the life's gone out of him.

_~Peter and Kate. You have lost your place in the Big Brother House. You have thirty seconds to say your goodbyes.~_

There's hugging. Kate clings to Allison and Stiles sees that she's shaking: she wasn't expecting this. Stiles catches sight of his reflection in the mirror opposite him; he's got this sly grin on his face that probably looks terrible to the audience, but he can't help it. He just got rid of the two most annoying, dangerous people in the house all in one go. Isaac and Scott are safe. Derek's safe.

Not that Stiles cares about Derek.

Peter and Kate, who hate each other like burning, hold hands as they run up the stairs and through the doors at the top, out into the flashing lights and the baying crowd. The doors shut and the house is quiet again. They've gone.

"Hey, look," says Erica. "The pictures have changed."

Everyone turns to the wall by the stairs, where the housemates' pictures are lined up on screens. Kate and Peter's pictures have turned grey, and as they watch the word 'evicted' appears underneath them. Everyone else's go back from nominations red to normal.

"Thank fuck for that," mutters Jackson.

For once, Stiles can't help but agree with him.

*


	6. Week Two: Day Ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Housemates nominate for the second time.

**_It's Day Ten in the Big Brother House.  
11.05 am Some of the housemates are exercising._ **

Stiles sprawls over a huge blue exercise ball, ungainly limbs flailing about to keep him roughly (if not entirely reliably) balanced as he watches the wolves. He thought that without Peter and Kate things might get a bit less cliquey, but when Peter left, Big Brother decided in all his or her wisdom to pass on Peter's alpha powers to Derek. The gazebo is now his court, and the wolves are his pack, even Isaac, Boyd and Erica, who were pretty indifferent towards Peter. Derek is showing them some ridiculous gym routines and martial art moves that make their muscles ripple, and they're all fawning over him.

"Erica's changed, man," Stiles tells Scott, who's doing push-ups on the grass next to him. 

"Really?"

"Yeah. She used to be cool. Now she's all over Derek like she wants to have a go on those oh-so-delicious abs worse than Kate did. Seriously, dude, what is it with that? I don't get it."

"He's ripped," says Scott. 

"Really? I hadn't noticed. Ugh, I can't look at it any more. All that sweat and testosterone. What are you up to, buddy? Want me to count for you?"

"Eighty-three," says Scott. "Has Allison come out yet?"

"No, she hasn't. Not that you care, right? We established that you don't care. You're all chill and relaxed about it all. Let her come to you when she's ready."

"I miss her, man. I really do."

"Scotty, she lives in the same house as you. She sleeps in the same bedroom."

"Yeah. But not in the same bed, not for two whole nights now, and she won't talk to me in case it makes her look bad."

"Look, don't worry. It's only the cameras. It'll be different on the outside, you'll see."

"But what if it isn't? I feel like my heart is literally broken."

"Dude, you've known her for exactly ten days."

"I've been in love with her for nine."

"Seriously?"

"Time's different in here. I've only known you for ten days too, and you're like seriously the best friend I've ever had in my life."

"That's different. We're bros, dude."

Scott smiles his big, goofy smile, and Stiles grins back.

*

**_2.23pm. Today is nominations day. Big Brother has asked Stiles to come to the Diary Room._ **

Big Brother: Good afternoon, Stiles.

Stiles: Yo, Big Bro.

Big Brother: Stiles, could you give the name of your first nomination, and explain your reasons for this nomination.

Stiles: Okay, this is easy. My first nomination is Jackson. Because the dude is a dick. He really is. He's such a dick he gives dicks a bad reputation. Like, last week, when he got put up for eviction with Derek, and it's not like it was just him, but he threw such a pathetic little tantrum about it. He was hopeless in the task last week - he got in a giant sulk because he wanted to be part of Peter's little wolf-pack, and then he took it out on Lydia at the party, when she was actually trying to be nice to him. 

Big Brother: Thank you, Stiles. Now give the name of your second nomination, and the reasons for this nomination.

Stiles: My second nomination is Matt. He looks kind of evil.

(pause)

Big Brother: Stiles, is that your only reason for nominating Matt?

Stiles: Isn't it enough?

Big Brother: Big Brother does not accept 'looking evil' as a sufficient reason for nomination.

Stiles: (flops back in the Diary Room chair) It's hard to be specific, Big Brother. I just don't like him. He's creepy. I don't trust him.

(pause)

Stiles: (sighs) I haven't connected with him. I feel I know the others better than him, and he hasn't made any effort to get to know me. Also, he's a wuss, he had a teeny little headache the other day and it was all drama and 'I had to see the doctor'. So. That. Also, he's evil. You'll see.

Big Brother: Your nominations this week are: Jackson and Matt. Thank you, Stiles, you may rejoin your housemates.

*  
**_6.21pm. Stiles and Scott are in the kitchen, preparing dinner._**

"Dude," says Scott, taking a pause from chopping carrots to check his hair in the mirror. (They all do it from time to time, for some reason. It's a compulsion.) "Nomination days are the worst."

"Worse than evictions?" says Stiles.

"Yeah, kinda. Because evictions aren't down to us. Once we've nominated, it's out of our hands, right? But this is us, and it's such a huge responsibility."

Stiles shrugs, shakes the pan he's browning onions in. "I quite enjoyed it today. It's okay if you've got obvious douches to put up."

"That's harsh, man. I don't think there's anyone in here who's that bad. It's the environment. It brings out the worst in some people, that's all."

"You're way too trusting, Scotty."

"I'd rather be like that than…."

Stiles glances up at him, an unpleasant cold feeling pooling in his chest. "Than what, Scott? Than an unfeeling, cynical bastard like me?"

"No! No, that's not what I meant at all."

"Because sure, yeah, I can be that. I can be all those things, and worse. It's called survival, buddy. You'll see."

Stiles tips the minced beef into the pan and stirs it savagely, not caring when bits fly out and stick to the hob in nasty, hissing spits of meat. His eyes sting (it's the onions, it's the onions) and then there's a hand on his shoulder, squeezing, and Scott's right up in his space. "Chill, man. It's okay."

And just like that, it is.

Mood-swings are a bitch.

*

**_8.45pm. Big Brother has gathered the housemates on the sofas._ **

Stiles still hates being gathered on the sofas. Nothing has happened to make him think of it as anything other than a precursor to episodes of cruelty bestowed upon the house by Big Brother. Except the time Peter and Kate got evicted. That was cool.

He sits with Scott on one side of him and Danny on the other. The wolves are all together on the opposite sofa with big ol' alpha Derek in the middle, and Allison and Lydia are the other side of Danny. Allison keeps shooting furtive looks at Scott and biting her lip. Scott just looks at his feet.

_~Housemates.~_

The voice is loud and male, and has a variety of British accent that Stiles hasn't noticed before. Northern, probably. It sounds very direct and no-nonsense.

_~Today you nominated for the second time. Here are the results of those nominations.~_

Stiles glances at Matt and Jackson. Jackson looks his usual, pissed-off self. Matt is staring at the ceiling.

_~The housemates nominated for eviction this week are: Derek.~_

Derek shrugs nonchalantly, even as his wolves swarm over him to offer comfort.

_~And.~_

Lydia shushes everyone, earning herself a very hostile glare from Erica.

_~Matt.~_

Stiles resists the urge to fist pump. Matt looks angry. Proper, pissed-off angry. And more evil than ever. Stiles feels completely vindicated.

_~And.~_

Stiles thinks: _Jackson, Jackson, Jackson._

_~Allison.~_

Scott gasps and Allison can't quite suppress a little sob, fist flying to her mouth for a second before she starts reassuring everyone she's okay.

_~And.~_

Scott is clinging to Stiles' hand for dear life, like it's all that's tethering him to the sofa and stopping him from going to comfort Allison. 

_~Jackson.~_

"Yeah, yeah, sure." Jackson sounds all casual and like he was expecting it, but Stiles catches the look of rejection in his eyes before he turns away.

Stiles breathes a sigh of relief. Scott's safe, Lydia's safe, Danny's safe. (He's become quite fond of Danny, the guy always seems to be keen to do the right thing in an effortless, quiet kind of way.) 

_~And.~_

"God, are we all up?" says Scott.

The pause drags on forever, and Stiles' mind is racing. It has to be another of the wolves, surely? Erica or Isaac, or maybe Cora?

_The final housemate up for nomination this week is…._

Not Scott. So long as it's not Scott.

_~Stiles.~_

Stiles blinks, freezes, has only a fraction of a second for it to sink in before Scott's howling, "No!" at the top of his voice and pulling Stiles into a fierce hug. Stiles knows that the hug is half for Allison but it's very, very welcome just the same: he can press his face into the reassuring bulk of Scott's shoulder and let his eyes get wet in private. 

"It's okay, man," Scott whispers into his ear. "We'll get through this. No way are you going home yet."

"I can't believe you said that, dude," Stiles replies. "You know how much the universe loves irony."

_~Housemates may now leave the sofas.~_

"What, that's it?" Jackson yells. "We don't get to know which bastards nominated us?"

Big Brother is tellingly silent.

Stiles glances around the group: Derek is leading his wolves back out to the garden; Jackson's storming off to the Diary Room and Matt….

Matt is just standing there, staring at Allison with this really creepy look on his face.

So evil.

*


	7. Week Two: Day Eleven

**_It's Day Eleven in the Big Brother house. Last night five of the housemates were told they face the public vote this week._ **

**_8.54am. Stiles and Scott are still in bed, talking about Stiles' nomination._ **

It's good to be back in Scott's bed. Scott doesn't fidget or wriggle in his sleep; he's a warm, solid presence. Reassuring. Although Allison slips in with them at about 3am and there's quiet whispering and a soft hiss of sheets slithering over skin, the occasional lip-smack of kissing, he's pretty sure it doesn't go any further than that. He can't blame them, anyway: Stiles is acutely aware of the precious commodity that is simple human comfort in the Big Brother house. There's a lot of cuddling. The wolves have pushed the two double beds next to the triple now, so they can all sleep together in one big wolf pile. Plotting, probably. But definitely cuddling.

And over here in Scott's bed they have their own little snuggle-fest going on. It feels as cosy and secure as a weird TV set full of cameras and mirrors in a parking lot on the outskirts of London can be. 

Jackson and Matt share a bed in the corner, away from everyone else, a little pit of loathing and despair. 

They have the bedroom to themselves right now, though. The others are getting breakfast, even Allison, but Scott is, unusually, showing no interest in bacon this morning.

"I can't believe anyone nominated you," Scott says to Stiles. 

"Yeah, well, you're immune to my lack of charms," says Stiles. 

"You haven't done anything to upset anyone, though. What reason could anyone have?"

Stiles fidgets. He can think of a number of things that might have rubbed people up the wrong way, especially over the whole Kate thing. He's been consistently snarky to Jackson and Matt, and he nominated Isaac last week. 

"What gets me," Stiles says, "is that I didn't think I'd care. I'm not an idiot, I know a lot of people don't get me. I was never the popular kid at school, not like some I could mention." He jabs Scott in the arm. "I figured I'd be here for a couple of weeks and it would be a fun experience, a neat trip to Europe before I start college in the fall."

"I wasn't," says Scott.

"Wasn't what?"

"Popular. I was a total nerd at high school. I had really bad asthma, missed a lot, never made friends really. This is… This is amazing. I feel like I can finally be myself here, you know?"

Stiles takes in Scott's gorgeous, trusting face and his huge brown eyes, and can't help himself. He pounces on him, hugging him fiercely. "You're my best friend, man. I love you."

Scott laughs and wriggles as if to shake Stiles off, but at the same time his arms are wrapped tight around Stiles' back and he whispers in Stiles' ear, "Me too, buddy. Always." Then says, louder: "Now, let's go get bacon."

*

**_2.10pm For this week's shopping task, Big Brother has told the housemates that when they hear the klaxon over the speakers followed by their name, they have been paralysed, and must not move again until Big Brother tells them they are released. What they do not know is that it is not Big Brother who decides who will be paralysed, when, or for how long. That decision is up to Matt and Jackson, who have a secret control panel hidden on their microphone packs to trigger the announcements._ **

**_If nominated housemates move while 'paralysed, the whole house will be on minimum rations for the rest of the week. That means they only be provided with basic foodstuffs like chickpeas, rice, porridge oats and tinned vegetables, plus the ingredients to make their own bread._ **

**_Stiles was the first to be paralysed this morning, for twenty minutes. He is now with Scott and Allison in the living area, sharing his suspicions._ **

"I saw a really smug look on Jackson's face this morning," Stiles says. "I think there's more to this task than meets the eye."

"You might be a bit paranoid," says Scott. 

"I don't know," says Allison. "Stiles could be right. It's a pretty straightforward task otherwise. But Jackson always looks either smug or angry, so…."

"Look, he's in the garden now, talking to Matt," says Stiles, pointing out of the window. "They're plotting."

"Or just talking," says Scott.

"I'm gonna go find out," says Stiles. "You two, watch from here. See if they do anything shady."

He hurries off to the bedroom to pick up his sunglasses, but while he's rootling around in the mess of stuff on his bedside table, he hears sniffling. He didn't think anyone was here, but then he spots a mound underneath the duvet on Lydia and Danny's bed.

"Lydia?"

The mound shifts, and a tousled mass of red hair emerges. 

"Lydia, what's wrong?" Stiles sits on the bed and strokes her hair back from her face. Her mascara's run and her cheeks are tearstained, and it makes Stiles' heart hurt. 

"Nothing," Lydia says, and sniffs noisily. "Go away. I don't want anyone to see me cry."

"You're beautiful when you cry," says Stiles. "You're always beautiful."

She manages a tiny hint of a smile.

"You can always talk to me, Lyds," Stiles says. "Any time."

"You'll think I'm crazy," she says. "It's just that I-"

A movement in the garden catches Stiles' eye: Jackson and Matt are fiddling with their microphone packs and the hairs on the back of his neck go up. "I have to go," he tells Lydia, in a rush. "I'll be back. You just continue crying…. Or not…. And I'll be back, and you can talk and I'll listen, I promise, okay?"

Her hurt expression is like a shard of ice in his lungs, but Stiles kisses her on the top of her head and runs to the garden at full pelt: out of the bedroom door, across the grass, hits the tile around the swimming pool but fuck, it's slippery, and there's Derek reaching out, maybe to catch him or hit him or-

Splash.

Stiles hears a gasp and realises that he's not alone in the pool. 

Stiles hears the horrible screeching noise of the klaxon, and then a voice. Big Brother's voice. 

_~Derek.~_

Derek fell in with him, and Derek's paralysed and - 

\- and Derek is sinking, because apparently despite being an asshole alpha, he is also a good team player and doesn't want to lose the task.

Stiles swears, dives, grabs Derek by his ridiculous, hunky torso, and kicks his way back to the surface. Derek's heavy, encased in sodden jeans, trainers and hoodie, and it's all Stiles can do to keep his head above water.

"Hey!" Stiles yells. "Big Bro! We have a bit of a situation here, so if you could un-paralyse him any time soon, that would be great!"

A crowd starts to gather around the pool: Derek's wolves are concerned and Jackson's prowling around with a stupid grin on his face. 

"You could just get out," Cora says. "It's only a stupid task."

"No," Derek insists. "I will not be responsible for the rest of the house being on emergency rations for a week."

"That's very noble," says Erica. "But what if you drown?"

"She makes a fair point," says Stiles. "Drowning sounds like a bad option."

"Look, Stiles." Derek turns the full force of his alpha glare on him. "I don't trust you, and you don't trust me, but neither of us wants the house to starve. Just hold me up. Nobody's going to drown."

Stiles stares at him. What on God's earth made Derek think Stiles doesn't trust him? The guy may be a dick but he's never done anything Stiles can really say has harmed him. Well, the whole Kate episode was a bit mentally scarring to watch, but that wasn't really Derek's fault. 

Unless Derek nominated him.

Stiles fumbles his hold and has to thrash to get a secure grip on Derek's body again. Derek's still committed: he started to sink the minute Stiles dropped him.

"Okay then," Stiles says. "We stay here as long as you're paralysed. We'll do that. I mean, twenty minutes is nothing, right? We must have done five already. We'll be fine."

**_3.25pm. Stiles has been holding Derek up in the pool for one hour._ **

The others had tried to get Derek to see sense, but apparently he has a stubborn streak a mile wide, and Stiles can't blame his housemates for giving up. The novelty of watching Stiles try to keep Derek from drowning for the sake of a game show wore off pretty quickly, and eventually they drifted inside. Now he can just about see them through the window, playing some stupid word game. Anyone else might give up and let them starve, but not Derek. And not, for now, Stiles.

But Stiles is revisiting his decision. A lot of his decisions, actually.

"My arms ache," he points out.

Derek shrugs at him with his eyebrows. It's a talent. Derek has many eyebrow-related talents, Stiles has discovered. They're surprisingly communicative. 

"They won't appreciate it, you know," Stiles says. "They'll have forgotten our amazing feat of heroism long before the food arrives on Saturday. They can't even be bothered to stay out here and cheer you on."

"It doesn't matter."

"Wait, are you doing this for _votes_? To impress the public? Is that what all this is about? It is, isn't it? You're a fucking game player."

"I didn't even want to do the show. I'm here because Cora wanted to do it, and they wanted a pair of siblings. She talked me into it."

"Well, that explains a lot, actually. Especially the grumpiness."

Derek's eyebrows glare at him.

"My dad kind of made me do it," Stiles says. "I think the words 'character-building' were used."

Something happens to Derek's face and Stiles thinks, for a second, he might actually recognise a smile. 

Then his calf screams with cramp and they both go underwater.

**_4.05pm Stiles and Derek have been in the pool for one hour and forty minutes._ **

"I'm not sure how much longer I can do this," says Stiles. He's cold, tired and every inch of him aches with the effort of keeping Derek above the surface. "Right now, chickpeas seem just fine. Don't they?" Stiles makes a chickpea stew thing for his Dad sometimes, for the sake of his cholesterol. It's okay. Of course, it relies on a decent stock and Moroccan spices, neither of which they would have access to. 

Fuck it, now he's getting hungry as well as exhausted.

"Keep trying," Derek hisses at him, but Stiles' arms are noodly and he can't hang on. He's about to sink to the bottom himself through sheer lack of muscle power, when Scott's beaming face appears at the edge of the pool.

"Hey, buddy," says Scott. "Need a hand?"

Stiles blinks at him.

"I'll come and relieve you for a bit. Or, you know, we could drag him out onto the grass. He can be paralysed there as well as he can be paralysed in the pool, right?"

Derek looks as stricken as Stiles feels. "Wait, what?" Stiles says, but Scott is already pulling them both out of the pool. Derek clings to a sun lounger while Stiles flops onto his back, staring up at the blue, blue sky and wondering how the hell he'd been so stupid. 

"I didn't have to do that at all, did I?" he said. 

"What matters is that you were willing to," says Scott. "I'm proud of you, buddy."

Stiles could weep. He really could. 

"I would have come sooner," says Scott. "But Allison and I were in the store cupboard, um… talking. Matt had them all convinced helping would be against the rules. So in the end, I checked with Big Brother.'

_~This is Big Brother. Derek is no longer paralysed.~_

Stiles rolls over onto his front and bangs his head on the grass, until Scott tells him to come inside, promising warm towels and soup.

On their way in Derek nudges shoulders with Stiles, accidentally. And then he spares him another of those tiny mirages of a smile, and, barely moving his lips, he whispers, "Thank you."

Stiles smiles back.

*

_**10.50pm. Stiles has been called to the Diary Room.** _

Big Brother: Big Brother would like to know if you're feeling better, Stiles.

Stiles: (in his pyjamas, pulling his blanket further around himself) I'm fine. (yawns) Ready for bed. Just working up the strength to brush my teeth.

Big Brother: Have you had a good day, Stiles?

Stiles: Yes and no. I still think it was mean of you not to tell Derek we could get him out of the pool.

Big Brother: Big Brother felt that as no housemates were in immediate danger it was best to let the task proceed.

Stiles: Well, gee, thanks.

Big Brother: Didn't you enjoy your swim with Derek, Stiles?

Stiles: I'm not going to dignify that with an answer. The only good thing about it was that afterwards he told me some of the shit Peter's been saying about me, and honestly, I'm not surprised Derek didn't trust me. By the way, I don't suppose you're going to tell me which abominable fuckwad paralysed him on the way into the pool either, are you?

(pause)

Stiles: Thought not. Well, if you're not talking, I think I might go get some hot chocolate. It's a chilly business, hanging out in swimming pools all day. Oh, wait. I was going to ask you something else. Is Lydia okay?

Big Brother: To the best of Big Brother's knowledge, all the housemates are currently healthy.

Stiles: That's not what I meant. Allison said she came in here while I was in the pool. She was going to talk to me, but I had to go save stupid Derek, and by the time I'd done that and got the feeling back in my feet, she was claiming I'd hallucinated the whole thing about her crying. Allison said she's upset because Jackson's being a dick. Is that true? Only if it is-

Big Brother: Stiles, whatever housemates wish to tell Big Brother in the Diary Room in confidence is treated with absolute respect and will not be repeated to other housemates. This applies to you as well. Big Brother is sure you understand.

Stiles: Yeah. Yeah, of course. I just worry about her, you know?

Big Brother: Do you think perhaps you could try and talk to her again?

Stiles: Yeah. Yeah, obviously. Maybe tomorrow, when, you know, she's not so pissed off with me. 

Big Brother: Good luck, Stiles. Enjoy your hot chocolate.

Stiles: (salutes at the camera) G'night, Big Bro. 

*


	8. Week Two: Day Twelve

**_It's Day Twelve in the Big Brother house._ **

**_10.16am. Jackson and Matt have paralysed some of their fellow housemates._ **

Stiles stands on one leg, toothbrush stuck in his mouth, gripping the sink hard. Toothpaste foam runs down his chin and Scott's laughing at him. Which is all very well for Scott; he hasn't been paralysed yet. Sure, it's hilarious if it's not happening to you. It has happened to Stiles a lot. 

Allison pulls herself up to sit on the bathroom counter next to him. "It can't be Jackson," she whispers. 

Stiles doesn't dare speak, for fear of the toothbrush falling out of his mouth and spraying the rest of him with spit and toothpaste, but risks raising his eyebrows in inquiry. 

"He's paralysed, too," Allison continues. "They called his name just now in the garden, and-"

She stops abruptly when Derek comes into the bathroom. He stands next to Stiles and washes his hands, catches sight of Stiles in the mirror and snorts with laughter.

This is not fair. Stiles can't remember Derek laughing at all in the house, and he decides to start now? And, of course, it sets Scott off again. Which makes Allison giggle. It's like being stuck with a pack of fucking hyenas, and all at Stiles' expense.

Stiles grips the sink tighter as the toothpaste drips onto his chest. 

Then Lydia comes into the bathroom too. Perfect.

*

**_It's 12.06pm. Some of the housemates are preparing lunch._ **

"Lydia," says Derek. "If it's not Jackson, it's Lydia."

"It's not Lydia," says Stiles, and shoves a basket of roughly sliced green olive ciabatta at Derek's solidly muscled chest. "I'd know if it was Lydia."

"She's the only one who hasn't been paralysed, apart from Scott and Allison."

"That doesn't mean anything. The first thing I'd do, if it was me - which, by the way, it isn't - is paralyse myself to put everyone off the scent."

"Hmm." Derek strokes his beard. He's looking ridiculously handsome all of a sudden. It's annoying. "You were the first victim, weren't you?"

"Do you think I would have seriously doomed us to that afternoon in the pool? Now, are you going to take the bread to the table or just stand there with it?"

Derek shrugs and wanders off towards the table. 

"Honestly," Stiles mutters. He turns back to the sink and starts washing tomatoes. "Stupid werewolves."

*

**_2.22pm For this week's shopping task, Jackson and Matt have the power to tell Big Brother which of the housemates is to be paralysed. If any of the housemates moves when they are supposed to be paralysed, the house will only have basic rations for the rest of the week._ **

**_Allison is in the garden, sorting some laundry._ **

The klaxon screeches, and the whole house is still for a second, waiting for the name.

_~Allison.~_

Stiles leans over the back of the couch, instantly on the lookout for Jackson and Matt, but neither is in the garden. Allison freezes, dutifully, a t-shirt draped over one arm where she was in the middle of folding it. There's no-one else out there: Lydia's in the Diary Room, the wolves are in the bedroom (except for Derek, who's in the living area, fiddling with his hair in the mirror because he thinks no-one's watching) and Scott's in the kitchen, peeling an orange. Matt's rooting about in the bottom of an enormous bag of Cheetos.

Stiles frowns. Why Allison? Why now?

"Is she okay?" asks Derek, abandoning the mirror to stand behind Stiles and peer into the garden.

Stiles kneels precariously on the back of the sofa to get a better view of the garden, still looking for Jackson. "I think so, she-"

The speakers squeal again. _~Stiles and Derek.~_

Derek collapses onto the sofa, catching Stiles' foot on the way so Stiles loses his balance and falls off the back of the sofa to land on top of him. "Sonofabitch," Stiles mutters, under his breath. 

"Get off of me," says Derek.

"Can't," says Stiles. "'m paralysed, remember?"

"Hey, Matt!" Derek yells, and Matt comes over from the kitchen. "Can you roll him off me?"

"I dunno," says Matt. "You look like a pretty good pair to me."

Stiles takes a second to imagine what this looks like to the camera, and groans. 

He absolutely does not reflect on how warm Derek is, or how nice he smells.

Then Matt gives him a tug, and Stiles rolls off Derek and onto the floor with a yell of pain. Matt ignores him and wanders off. 

"Ouch," Stiles complains. "I think he broke my tailbone."

"Unlikely," Derek says. "The rug's quite soft."

"Oh, really? You'd know, would you? Spent a lot of time rolling around on it with your pack, have you?"

He just knows Derek's eyebrows have something to say about this, but Stiles can't see them from where he's lying.

Then Allison screams, and all hell breaks loose.

*

**_5:20pm. The housemates are gathered on the sofas._ **

~This is Big Brother.~

Allison hasn't come back from the Diary Room, and Scott keeps wiping tears off his cheeks with the backs of his hands. Stiles has his arm around Scott's shoulders and Lydia's sitting on Scott's other side, patting his leg, everyone looking serious because they're certain that Allison's left altogether, and the whole house is stunned at what happened.

 _~Housemates.~_

Derek's sitting on the sofa opposite with his wolves. Jackson's next to Lydia, head bowed, staring at his hands.

_~This afternoon, at 2.27pm, Allison was in the garden, frozen as part of the task. Matt approached Allison and, without her permission or consent, attempted to kiss her.~_

A hiss of surprise and disgust goes around the room. Scott's fists clench.

"Fucking _bastard_ ," says Stiles, and he thinks he hears Lydia say something in a similar vein (although probably wittier and more cutting), before everyone starts shushing each other.

_~As you know, Big Brother's rules on personal safety and respect for boundaries are very clear. Matt broke those rules, and has been ejected from the house.~_

Stiles is disappointed. He wants very, very badly to hit Matt, and now he'll have to wait until he gets out of the house to do that. "I told you he was evil," he mutters to no-one in particular. 

"Did you?" says Scott.

Stiles sighs.

_~Allison has had to leave the Big Brother house to provide a statement to the police. She will return later this evening.~_

*

**_11.47pm_ **

Allison is bundled up in Scott's arms in Scott and Stiles' bed. Stiles heard Allison say this would be the last time, the last night, because the thing with Matt has given her fresh perspective and she needs some time to herself to work things out. Stiles suspects it might have something to do with the fact that Allison's mother went with her to the police station and probably gave her a pep talk. Scott's taking it all very well, probably because he's relieved she came back.

Stiles decides to give them some space, which means that he finds himself standing in the middle of the bedroom, bedless. Lydia's with Jackson, which frankly makes Stiles feel sick, but they were up in the Sky Room for hours after dinner and there was hugging and shit, so. 

"Hey, Stiles. There's room over here."

Of all the people in the world, Stiles had not expected Derek Hale to offer to share his bed with him. But a few moments later he's cuddled up with the wolf pack, and God, but these werewolves know how to snuggle. 

Stiles could get used to this.

Providing he doesn't get evicted, of course.

*


	9. Week Two: Day Fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's eviction day again. Who will leave the Big Brother House this time?

**_It's day fourteen in the Big Brother House. The housemates are in the bedroom talking about the forthcoming eviction._ **

"I don't think anyone's going," says Cora. "Matt was nominated. Matt left. What's the problem?"

"They have an eviction show every Friday," Stiles says. "They can't just cancel it because some jerk got thrown out." 

"They might," says Scott, gazing forlornly across the bedroom at Allison. Allison's now sharing a bed with Lydia, keeping her distance not just from Scott but from everyone. As much as Stiles is happy to be back with his bro, he is finding it hard to keep up with all this hot/cold on/off business, especially when it impinges on his sleeping arrangements. 

"She won't go," Stiles says softly to Scott. "Not after the other day."

"I don't want anyone to go," says Scott, unhappily.

"I still think everyone's safe," says Cora.

Stiles really wishes people wouldn't say things like that.

*

**_2.56pm Stiles and Lydia are in the Sky Room._ **

"If you're coming to tell me how great I am in case I get evicted, I'd rather you didn't," says Stiles. He regrets it immediately, because it's Lydia, and he still holds a torch for her the size of Big Ben (he hasn't seen Big Ben yet, but he's sure it's huge) and if he does get evicted he doesn't want her last memory of him to involve him being snarky and petulant.

"Actually," says Lydia, "I was going to tell you to buck up. Because if you spend the rest of the day sulking around the house people are bound to vote you out."

"Oh. Well. That's strange."

"Really?"

"No, I mean, you're right, I expect. I just hadn't thought about it that way. Like, I'm just being me. It never occurred to me to behave differently so people keep me here."

Lydia gives him a long look. She clearly thinks he's an idiot. She's probably right, but Stiles would rather she didn't see it quite so clearly.

"Anyway," she says. "Danny and Allison and I have offered to get everyone ready for the live show tonight. So if you want a hand with your hair and-" She looks him up and down with an eye so critical that he cringes. "-everything, we're willing to take you on."

"I'll have you know I'm packed with exciting raw material just waiting to be styled into something fantastic," says Stiles.

"That's what Danny says." Lydia sounds unconvinced, which is annoying, and Stiles is feeling no less tetchy for this conversation.

"You could take a leaf out of my book, you know," he says. "Be more honest on camera."

"Whatever do you mean?" Lydia's eyes bore into him, narrowed.

"You're so busy flirting with Peter, or snuggling up to Jackson, you never really talk to anyone. The public won't have a clue how clever you are. Or how determined. Or perceptive. So don't come giving me advice about how to stay in the house, okay? Nobody cares about an annoying, hyperactive little bastard like me. But if you got evicted for being shallow and hanging out with the bad boys, it would be a tragedy. Don't you want to win?"

Lydia glares at him, tosses her hair over her shoulder, and storms out of the Sky Room and down the stairs without a second glance. 

Stiles buries his head in his hands. He's kissed goodbye to any remote chance he might have had with Lydia, and he's almost certainly just bought his ticket home. 

He really, really doesn't want to go.

*  
_**9.40 pm.**_

_~Big Brother House, this is Emma.~_

They're gathered on the sofas again, random crowd noise pumping into the house so they can't hear the actual crowd outside.

_~Allison. Derek. Jackson. Stiles. The viewers have spoken, your fate is sealed.~_

Stiles clutches Scott's hand on one side and Danny's on the other.

_~Since Wednesday the British public have been voting to evict. I can now reveal that the two housemates with the most votes, and the third and fourth to be evicted, are….~_

Another double eviction? Oh God. Stiles had been second-guessing himself all day, trying to work out reasons why the public might vote for him to go (or not). Now the odds are no longer one in four. They are a very even fifty-fifty. And he's up against Allison, Mr Abs and Jackson-the-tearfully-repentant. 

The wait goes on forever. All Stiles can hear is the hiss of the crowd-that-isn't and the thumpity-thump-thump of his own heart. Maybe it's not so bad. If he's evicted, he gets to go home, right? He can go back to California and his old life in Beacon Hills, and all this will be over. He won't see any of these people again.

_~Derek… And….~_

Stiles blinks at Derek across the room as his wolves howl for him, rushing to hug him, all disbelief and anguish. 

What?

Derek? How come…? But….

_~Stiles.~_

The blood drains out of Stiles' head and for a second he thinks he might actually faint. For all his longing for home and obscurity, he's horrified. He doesn't want to go. How will Scott cope without him? How will any of them cope with Jackson, and oh, fuck, Lydia! How can he leave Lydia? Especially after that stupid argument.

Stiles stares around at his friends, who look as shocked as he feels. It seems arrogant to think he might have stayed. But deep in his heart, that's what he thought. He truly had believed he stood a chance. 

"Idiot," he mutters to himself. "I'm such an idiot."

_~Derek and Stiles. You have lost your place in the Big Brother House. You have thirty seconds to say your goodbyes.~_

Everything's a blur as everyone hugs him; Scott's actually crying and Allison's trembling. Even Jackson looks stunned.

He finds himself at the bottom of the stairs, Derek beside him, and before he realises what he's doing, he's taken Derek's hand in his. Derek gives him a quick, startled look, but he doesn't object. He nods at Stiles, and, as they take their first step up the stairs, he actually gives Stiles' fingers a little squeeze.

They stop at the top and wave back to the rest of the housemates, who are being told by Big Brother to get back to the sofas. 

The countdown starts, amid the loop of Big Brother's voice. "Derek and Stiles. You have been evicted. Please leave the Big Brother House…. Derek and Stiles. You have been evicted. Please leave the Big Brother House…Derek and Stiles…."

"Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven."

"It'll be okay," says Stiles.

Derek nods.

"Six. Five. Four. Three."

Stiles takes a deep breath, forces himself to hold it deep in his lungs.

"Two."

"Oh God," he whispers.

"One."

The doors swing open, the crowd roars and-

\- nothing. 

Stiles and Derek step out onto the big platform at the top of the huge metal stairs that lead down to the catwalk and the doors shut behind them. But there's no crowd, no banners, no paparazzi, no friends and family. Just the two of them, a lot of lights, a few cameras and Emma, who steps out in front of them.

"Hi! Come this way," says Emma, and leads them, not down the stairs to the catwalk, but a few short steps to their left, on to a runway leading around the side of the house.

"Um," says Stiles. "What just happened?"

Emma raises her finger to her lips to shush them, and Derek and Stiles exchange a glance. Derek looks as shocked as Stiles feels, and it's a small comfort that at least Derek's in the dark too. They're ushered through a series of doors and dark corridors, and finally come to a stop outside a big metal fire door.

"You haven't been evicted," Emma whispers. "The public voted for you to spend a few days in Big Brother's secret Wolf Den, where you will be able to observe your fellow housemates, before returning to the main house."

"But I'm not a wolf," says Stiles, because apparently his brain has left the building and that's all he has to offer.

"Neither am I," says Derek. "Not really. I mean, not outside of the show."

"You sure about that?" says Stiles, and even Emma is looking at Derek sideways, as if she's trying to weigh up the likelihood. 

Derek's eyebrows are dismissive.

"In you go," says Emma, and shoulders open a door for them.

"We're really not evicted?" says Stiles.

"Not even a little bit," says Emma, with an absolutely gorgeous smile. She pushes them both into the room and closes the door behind them. 

Suddenly Stiles is alone, with Derek, in a small room. The set is made up to look like a cave, apart from one wall which bears a huge plasma screen and several mirrors. Opposite the screen is a low bed, covered in blankets and pillows. It looks comfy, actually. Very small, but… comfy. Cosy.

"Um…" says Stiles, and Derek gives him his most confused expression. 

There's a hiss, and the screen comes on. 

"Hey, it's the house," says Stiles. He can see the rest of the housemates on the sofas, checks them off on his internal list of people who Suddenly Matter a Whole Lot to Him. "D'you think they'll evict someone else now?"

"Doubt it," says Derek. "No crowd, remember?"

"Oh, yeah, you're right. Wow, they look really sad. I wonder what they're saying?"

"Um," says Derek, looking pointedly at the table that's under the screen. It's made of old logs, and on top of it are some fluffy things, next to a bottle of fizzy wine, a couple of glasses and a bowl of snacks.

Headphones, Stiles realises. Headphones disguised with fluffy wolf-ears. "You think they're for us?"

"Yeah. They want us to listen to the others and be all outraged when they talk about us behind our backs."

"Seriously? Oh my God, this is like the best thing ever. It's like listening in on the police channel without having to worry about getting caught."

He rushes over to the logs, and slips on the headphones. All he can hear at first is a hubbub of noise, but soon he can pick out voices. Scott's reassuring Isaac. Erica's cuddling with Boyd. They all look pretty upset, actually, even Jackson. 

"Why are they still on the sofas?" Stiles says. 

"Because if this was a real eviction the show would still be going on," says Derek. He sits down on the end of the bed. 

"Oh, yeah. Hey, d'you think they'll do a toast for us like they did for Peter and Kate?"

"Maybe."

_~Derek. Please pick up your headphones and put them on.~_

Derek does so, with a particularly resentful glare. 

_~Housemates.~_

Stiles tenses.

"It's not us," says Derek. "She's talking to the main house."

"Oh," says Stiles. "Right. But my buddy Scott's still in there, you know?"

"He'll be fine," says Derek.

_~As you know, Matt was removed from the Big Brother house earlier this week. This leaves an opportunity for Big Brother to send one person back into the house who has already left. Earlier today one of you was asked to choose who that person should be.~_

The housemates yell "Stiles!" and "Derek!" in roughly equal measure. Stiles realises Cora is crying, and Derek growls deep in his throat. 

_~Housemates, welcome back a blast from the past.~_

The scene on the TV switches to the big doors at the top of the stairs that Stiles and Derek just exited through. They slide open to reveal…

"Peter?" says Stiles.

"Peter." Derek doesn't sound too pleased, either. 

"Who the hell told them to bring Peter back?" says Stiles.

Peter takes his place back with the rest of the confused and - Stiles notes with no small pleasure - mostly hostile housemates. Stiles scans the group for any sign of who'd doomed them to Peter's return, and finally settles on….

"Lydia," says Derek.

She's sitting on the end of the sofa, not talking to anyone, intensely scrutinising her perfectly manicured nails. 

"Lydia?" says Stiles, weakly.

"To be fair, she didn't have much of a choice. Kate, Peter, not a lot in it."

"I bet you'd have rather it was Kate. Your abs must be feeling particularly un-licked these days."

To Stiles' surprise he does not receive the full force of Derek's glare, or one of those scary little growls. Derek looks away, and if Stiles didn't know better, he'd think that Derek had actually _liked_ Kate.

"It wasn't just for the cameras, was it?" Stiles asks. "I mean, obviously it was on her part. But for you…?"

"I don't want to talk about it," says Derek. 

"Okay, big guy, okay. Prosecco?" He raises the bottle and waves it in Derek's direction. 

Derek holds out a glass and catches the foam when Stiles pops the cork. Stiles pours. Derek looks like thunder, and in the headphones Allison and Peter are already gearing up for a shouting match. 

"To the Wolf Den," Stiles says, and clinks Derek's glass. 

Derek clinks back, and downs the glassful in one.

*


	10. Week Three: Day Fifteen

**_Day 15. 8.15am. Stiles and Derek have spent their first night in the Wolf Den._ **

Stiles wakes to find himself wrapped in soft blankets, warm and cosy. It takes him a few moments to come round enough to remember. He's not at home. He's not in any of the number of beds he's slept in in the Big Brother house. He's in the Wolf Den with Derek. In fact, he's cuddled right up to Derek's side, and the man radiates heat like a forest fire. 

It's really nice. 

He wriggles a bit, releasing tension in the shoulder he's been lying on.

Wait.

He's cuddled up to Derek in the Wolf Den.

Stiles opens his eyes, ready to come face to face with a shocked and horrified Derek. But Derek's just staring at the ceiling. Stiles rolls onto his back and clears his throat. "Morning," he says.

"Morning," says Derek. "Sleep okay?"

"I guess, yeah. Bed's pretty good. Small, but good."

"Hm," says Derek.

"You okay?"

Derek sits up and winces.

"Ah," says Stiles. "Hungover?"

Derek glares at him.

"That Prosecco's a bitch, man." Stiles sits up too, and movement on the plasma screen catches his eye. "Hey, look, the guys are up."

"I'm going for a shower," Derek says. "You can catch me up later."

Stiles already has his headphones on.

*

**_10.29am. Stiles and Derek have been watching their fellow-housemates for two hours._ **

The hardest person to watch is Scott, because he's obviously sad about Stiles. Surprisingly, everyone but Peter says at some point that Stiles and Derek shouldn't have been evicted. It's nice, and Stiles finds himself re-evaluating people a bit. But Scott's really upset, and Allison is being good to her word and keeping her distance, hanging out a lot with Lydia. 

Peter, meanwhile, is making himself very much at home. He's no longer the alpha - they haven't announced a new one yet, so presumably Derek still is - and he doesn't hold court any more. He just lurks around the place being creepy and giving a lot of unwanted advice, especially to the wolves and Lydia. 

_~Stiles and Derek. Big Brother has a task for you.~_

"Does it involve torturing Peter?" asks Stiles, hopefully.

_~Big Brother does not condone the use of torture.~_

"Shame," mutters Derek.

"I thought you liked him," says Stiles. "You were really up his arse before he got evicted."

Derek's eyebrows rise at a shocking rate. 

"You and the other wolves," Stiles says.

"He was our alpha. It was the task, okay?"

"So, you trust him?"

"No. That's not the point."

_~Stiles and Derek. Big Brother hopes you are enjoying your time in the Den.~_

Derek shrugs, which Stiles takes as a compliment.

_~For this week's shopping task, the housemates in the main house will be tested on how well they know each other. They think the questions will be asked by their fellow housemates. However.~_

"I hate 'however'," says Stiles. 

_~The questions will actually be set by you.~_

"Oh. Well, that doesn't sound so bad."

_~In the form of tweets.~_

Stiles glances at Derek. "That should be right up your street. Short sentences and all."

"Shh," says Derek. "Listen."

_~You have thirty minutes to write a tweet describing each of the housemates in the main house. Please collect a whiteboard and pen from the Diary Room.~_

*

**_10.50am. Stiles and Derek have been writing tweets for fifteen minutes._ **

"Do you think so, really?" Stiles squints at the whiteboard. "You don't think people would get the knitwear thing more easily?"

"You are the only person in the world who has even noticed that Isaac wears sweaters a lot. He's probably just cold. They run the air-con way too low."

"Yeah, but 'doesn't like peas', seriously? Who cares about peas? More importantly, would the audience notice the peas? Because don't forget if the housemates get a clue about who's really asking the questions, we lose the task."

Derek shrugs and makes a frustrated huffy noise. "It's better than the sweater thing. That's so obviously you."

"So, what, then?"

Derek took a deep breath. "Allison," he says.

"No, we're doing Isaac."

Derek gives Stiles a 'yes, and' sort of look.

"Oh," says Stiles. "You mean-"

Derek nods. 

"But Scott…"

"Scott and Allison broke up," Derek points out.

"Oh," says Stiles again. "Crap."

Derek takes the pen out of Stiles' hand and scrawls on the whiteboard. 

"I guess it won't come to anything," Stiles says. "Allison only split up with Scott because she didn't want a relationship in here. So it's not like she's going to run off with Isaac, is it?"

"Let's focus on the task, Stiles," says Derek, and there's something in the gentleness of his voice that makes Stiles feel distinctly unsettled on Scott's behalf.

*

**_2.17pm. The housemates are taking the quiz. Erica is next to be called to the Diary Room._ **

Derek and Stiles can't see the rest of the housemates, but they can see Erica in the Diary Room. She sounds different, quieter, less sure of herself than usual. 

_~Erica. Which housemate does this tweet refer to?_

_'People think she's a bit of an air-head but she's not. She's playing the best game of all of them.'~_

Stiles leans forwards, fingertips tapping on the edge of the bed. "Come on, Erica. It's obvious. You can do this."

"She will," says Derek.

But Erica looks really nervous, chewing her lower lip, and Stiles is suddenly aware that the question is way more ambiguous than he thought.

"Cora?" says Erica.

Stiles stares at the screen with his mouth open. Derek is ominously silent and when Stiles glances at him he's glaring, furious in a way that's highly incongruous, considering he's wearing fluffy wolf-ear headphones and all. 

_~Is that your final answer, Erica?~_

"No!" says Stiles. "It isn't! Come on Erica! Come on, think!"

She hesitates for a long, tantalising moment.

"Well," she says, eventually. "Everyone knows she's a real fan of the show. She knows how it works, and she's very quiet at the moment, like she's biding her time? But if you really know her, you realise that she's very loyal and she's completely honest. So, I could see how it could be seen like she's playing the game, because she knows it really well. But she isn't. I mean, I love Cora, she's been great to me, but you never know what's been shown or anything, and… well. Yeah. I think it's Cora."

"Oh shit," says Stiles.

"Cora isn't game-playing," says Derek. "She wouldn't do that. She just wouldn't."

"Wait!" says Erica. "Big Brother, can I change my mind?"

There's a long, agonising pause.

"Allison. Because I think Allison really is playing the game. She had that whole showmance thing going on with Scott, and I can see how the audience would buy into that, and then they'll feel bad because of what happened with Matt. So, that makes more sense than Cora."

"No!" Stiles yells at the screen. "Lydia, for fuck's sake! It's Lydia!"

"Told you," Derek mutters under his breath. 

_~Erica, please state your final answer.~_

"Allison," says Erica with heartbreaking confidence. "I think it's Allison."

"Why did she have to say that?" Stiles asks Derek. 

"They don't get on," says Derek. 

"What d'you mean, they don't get on?"

"Cora thinks Erica's a bit jealous of Allison and Scott."

_~Erica. You answered that Allison was the person of whom the public think 'People think she's a bit of an air-head but she's not. She's playing the best game of all of them.'~_

Erica nods. 

_~Erica, that is incorrect. You may now leave the Diary Room.~_

Stiles buries his face in his hands.

"They're allowed to get two wrong," says Derek. "They can still win the task."

"Fuck the task. What about Allison?"

"It's just a game, Stiles."

"I cannot believe you said that."

**_The next person to come to the Diary Room is Scott. If Scott answers this question correctly, the housemates will have won a luxury shopping budget for next week._ **

Scott flops into the chair, grinning all over his face, and Stiles finds himself grinning back, even though he knows Scott can't see him. He suddenly misses him hard, as if they'd known each other for years and been separated for a month. 

_~Good afternoon, Scott.~_

"Good afternoon, Big Brother."

_~Scott. Big Brother would like you to say who you think this tweet from the general public is about: 'Has anyone else noticed his irrational hatred of peas? Last night he put all his on Boyd's plate when he wasn't looking.'~_

Stiles shakes his head sadly. 

"Isaac!" says Scott.

"What?" says Stiles. "Seriously?"

"Told you," says Derek.

Smug is a surprisingly good look on him.

*

**_7.15pm. Derek is in the Diary Room, leaving Stiles alone in Big Brother's Wolf Den. Stiles has been watching the housemates on the big plasma screen for the past three hours and ten minutes._ **

A person might expect the den to get claustrophobic after a while, and although Stiles has an itch in his limbs that only a decent swim in the pool or a jog around the garden would cure, he's so fascinated watching people that he barely notices it. He'd seen a few episodes of the show on YouTube back home, when he was still worrying whether he'd done the right thing signing up for it, but it was completely different from the real experience, and different again from watching people he knew on the screen. 

At the moment he's watching Lydia talking with Allison. Lydia tells Allison to take no notice of the tweet, and Allison's obviously sad and hurt, whereas when Scott tried to talk to her about it for a few minutes ago, she brushed it off as nothing. Meanwhile, Peter's watching them from across the room like the creepiest creeper that ever lived. 

In the background, Scott walks past Peter on his way to the kitchen, and a few moments later the camera switches from the girls to focus on Scott, who's chucking granola and cherries into a bowl of yoghurt. It needs chocolate sprinkles, and Stiles feels a pang of frustration at being unable to tell Scott so.

"I was sorry to hear about the public reaction to Allison," Peter says, slithering like the nasty little snake that he is right up to Scott's side, and draping himself all over the kitchen counter. The camera focuses sharply on Peter's stubbly face. 

"She'll be okay," Scott says. "We're not together any more. They'll be able to see who she really is."

"Still, it's a shame you have to miss out. And it was tragic, your friend being evicted so early on."

"Yeah." Scott looks down sadly into his bowl of yoghurt and Stiles wants to reach through the screen and hug him.

"It would be terrible if anything like that happened to you. Not that I expect it will."

"I don't care." Scott reaches for the jar of peanut butter. "It's up to the public to decide when I go. I'm just happy to be here as long as it's a benefit to the house."

Stiles questions Scott's choices on two levels, and isn't sure which is worse: confiding in Peter or the culinary peanutty disaster that's about to happen to his snack. "Sprinkles, you idiot," he mutters under his breath. 

"I learned a very hard lesson my first time in here," Peter says. "I watched the episodes back after I was evicted, you know. It definitely wasn't my finest hour."

Scott looks at Peter with surprise and compassion and _fuck_ , the idiot is going to actually believe whatever lies fall out of Peter's mouth next. 

"I'm going to do things differently from now on."

Scott smiles; Stiles' heart sinks. 

"I'm glad to hear that, Peter," Scott says. "Everyone deserves a second chance."

Stiles flings the headphones down on the bed and bites his knuckles to stop himself putting a fist through the screen. 

The room to the den opens and Derek's standing there, a bottle in one hand, two glasses in the other.

"Are we doing the Prosecco thing again?" Stiles says. "Seriously?"

"I can give it back if you want," says Derek. "But it seems a bit rude. It's supposed to be our reward for the tweeting task. There's snacks, too."

"Well, if you put it that way," says Stiles, and grabs a glass. "Fizz me up, sour wolf."

Derek rolls his eyes and pops the cork on the Prosecco. 

"Your ex-alpha is a jerk, by the way," Stiles says.

"Yep," says Derek, and fills Stiles' glass.

Stiles downs it in one and comes right back for more.

* 

**_11.53pm Stiles and Derek are in bed._ **

"This is nice," Stiles announces, burrowing deeper into the blankets. He's a bit wasted, a bit tired and a lot relaxed, and he's aware that Derek's taken his shirt off. He kind of wants to touch, because he's never been so close to someone who works out so much, and he's curious to know if Derek's body feels as hard as it looks.

Heh heh. Hard. Stiles giggles.

"What?" says Derek. He's stuck his arm up in the air and he's watching the shadows his hand casts on the ceiling, making silly shapes.

"Is that a heron?"

"Plane. It's a plane, Stiles."

"Why's it got legs then?"

Derek tucks his little fingers in. "What legs?"

"That's cheating. You disappeared them. Is there more prosicko… prosthetic…Prosac…"

"No, we drank it all."

"You mean you drank it all."

"Oooh no. Nope. Not taking responsibility this time. We're in this together."

Stiles giggles.

_~Stiles and Derek. This is Big Brother.~_

"Oh crap," says Stiles. "Now what?"

_~Big Brother suggests you both drink plenty of water before you go to sleep.~_

"Oh. Oh, well that's considerate of you. Thank you, we will. Won't we, Derek?"

Derek nods. 

_~Good night, Stiles and Derek.~_

"Good night, Big Brother," says Stiles. Derek waves at in the general direction of the nearest camera.

*

**_1.14 am. Derek and Stiles have been trying to sleep for thirty two minutes._ **

"It's all that damn water," says Stiles. "I have to pee again."

Derek makes a whiny little noise and pulls the covers over his head.

"I'll be quiet, okay? I'm sorry."

Derek doesn't say anything, so Stiles pulls the covers back again to make sure he's okay. 

Derek frowns up at him, his stupidly attractive face all grumpy.

So Stiles kisses him.

It's only meant to be a peck, mostly a joke, kind of, to make him laugh, maybe. Stiles isn't drunk any more; there's a gentle buzz still going on but he knows exactly what he's doing. He thought Derek did, too.

But Derek's kissing him back.

And suddenly it isn't a peck any more. They're making out. Derek rolls Stiles over onto his back and brushes the hair back from his face, and his mouth is soft and eager and he tastes of toothpaste. 

When they come up for air, they look at each other: no embarrassment, no laughing, no leaping apart. Derek just says, very softly, "Hey."

"Hey," says Stiles. He's smiling. His heart is pounding. And… "I still have to go pee."

Derek raises an eyebrow.

"I'll be right back, I promise," Stiles whispers. "Can we do some more of that when I do? Please?"

"I'd like that," says Derek. And God, he's smiling right back at Stiles, a tiny, real, adorable smile that Stiles wants to make happen again. A lot. 

He tears himself away from all the gorgeous long enough to get to the tiny bathroom, pee for a ridiculously long time, wash his hands and rush back.

There's soft snores coming from the bed. Derek is fast asleep.

*


	11. Week Three: Day Sixteen

_**It's day sixteen in the Big Brother house.** _

_**7.45am. This will be Derek and Stiles' last day in the Wolf Den before they return to the main house with the nominations bombshell tonight.** _

Stiles wakes up to see Derek's face above him. Derek's brow is all wrinkly and he looks really worried.

"Oh, God," says Derek.

Stiles swallows, and braces himself for regret. His eyes flicker from Derek's eyes to his mouth and back again.

"I'm so sorry," Derek says, and Stiles' heart sinks. But then he adds, "I fell asleep, didn't I?"

Wait, what? 

"I'm so sorry," Derek repeats. 

"Hang on," says Stiles. "You're sorry you fell asleep, or…?"

"Sorry I fell asleep. Do I have anything else to be sorry for?"

Joy surges through Stiles, along with a healthy dose of lust, and he shakes his head vigorously. "No, nothing at all. Absolutely not."

"Good," says Derek. 

"Okay. I have to go to the bathroom to brush my teeth. If you're asleep again when I come back, I swear to God-"

"Don't worry. I'm going to be wide awake this time. Promise."

As soon as Stiles gets back through the bathroom door, all minty-fresh, Derek ducks in as if to kiss him; but at the last minute he brushes past instead to go to the bathroom himself. 

"You're a jerk," Stiles yells after him. But he's grinning.

Derek comes back from the bathroom a few minutes later, and then they're sharing toothpastey kisses and Derek's arms are wrapping around Stiles' middle and Stiles is about ready to drag Derek back into their cosy wolf-bed and do unspeakable things to him.

_~Derek and Stiles.~_

Stiles yelps and springs apart from Derek as awareness of his surroundings shocks back. For a moment, for the first time since he entered the house, he'd completely forgotten where he was. And now…

Now he's remembered. And, actually, well….

Stiles takes a long look at Derek with all his gorgeousness, and finds he doesn't care about the cameras after all. Neither does Derek, judging by the way he tackles Stiles and drags him down to the bed.

_~Derek and Stiles, this is Big Brother. Would one of you please come to the Diary Room.~_

"Cock-blockers," mutters Stiles, running his hands over Derek's gorgeous, gorgeous back muscles.

*

**_8.05am. Stiles is in the Diary Room._ **

Stiles: (lounges in the chair, looking rumpled)

Big Brother: Good morning Stiles.

Stiles: It certainly is, Big Girl-Bro.

Big Brother: How are you this morning?

Stiles: Busy. As you may have noticed. So if you'd like to move this along, I have things to do. Dereks to do. Oh my God, I can't believe I said that. (giggles)

Big Brother: Big Brother promises not to keep you long from your important activities.

Stiles: (trying to keep a straight face) I'd appreciate that. Yeah.

Big Brother: How are you enjoying your time in the Wolf Den, Stiles?

Stiles: Oh my God, it's amazing. I mean, it's difficult, too, like seeing Scott so sad, and wanting to strangle Peter, and I'm kind of pissed at Erica. But it's wicked to see it all from the other side.

Big Brother: And what about your den-mate?

Stiles: (adopts innocent expression) Derek? Oh, Derek's fine. He's clean, doesn't eat much. Well, that's a lie, he eats a lot but have you seen the size of him? He needs to make those muscles out of something.

Big Brother: Big Brother is pleased that you've enjoyed your time away from the house. Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.

Stiles: (sits up straight, suddenly intensely alert) Shit. Is this where I get evicted?

Big Brother: Thanks to last week's public vote, you and Derek are safe from eviction, and immune from nominations, for the coming week.

Stiles: Really? That's wicked! Oh, wait, I know what's coming. Go on.

(pause)

Stiles: Come on, I know you're dying to say it. Get it over with. C'mon.

Big Brother: However.

Stiles: There it is. (flops back in chair)

Big Brother: Later today you and Derek will return to the main house. But Big Brother has one last task for you to complete before you rejoin your housemates.

(pause)

Stiles: What? Cut off each other's legs with a rusty spoon? Dance naked in a vat of eels? Because I can tell you, nudity with Derek, I'm all over that, but I am not a fan of slippery aquatic wildlife.

Big Brother: Big Brother will get back to you with the details in due course. 

Stiles: What the fuck? No! You can't do that to a guy! What's the task?

(pause)

Stiles: You're not going to tell me, are you?

(pause)

Stiles: This is torture, you know. Actual proper torture. I'll report you guys to Amnesty, see if I don't. 

Big Brother: Thank you, Stiles. You may now leave the Diary Room.

Stiles: (gets to his feet, glaring at the camera) 

Big Brother: Big Brother hopes you will enjoy your remaining time in the Wolf Den, Stiles.

Stiles: (sighs) Well, I don't know about the den. But I guess I may as well enjoy the wolf.

*

**_11:48am. Stiles and Derek are keeping a close eye on their Housemates._ **

Stiles is curled up on the bed with his head in Derek's lap. They've got the headphones on, they're watching the main house on the screen, and Derek is stroking his fingers through Stiles' hair. 

On the screen, Erica is talking to Boyd and Isaac in the Sky Room.

"I think Allison's going to go this week," she says. "Scott's bound to have a big fanbase and they won't like her messing him about like she does."

Boyd is working his way through a bag of Doritos in his usual quiet way, answering Erica with only the faintest inclination of his head. 

"Then again," Erica continues. "She's survived so far. I guess she deserves a break after all that crap with Matt. I just hate to see a guy go unappreciated. Scott's been so miserable the last few days.

"He misses Stiles," says Isaac, who's sitting with his socked feet in Erica's lap. She's idly massaging his instep. 

"D'you think Scott and Stiles….?" Erica wonders.

["Nooo!" Stiles yells at the screen. "Ew, no! He's _Scott_."]

"I think Scott's straight," says Boyd.

["That too," mumbles Stiles.]

["You're not," says Derek, and dips his head to lick at Stiles' ear.]

[Stiles gets one big, exquisite body-shiver. "No, I am not," he says. "More bi by the second, actually."]

[Derek chuckles at him.]

Up on the screen Isaac's agreeing with Boyd and Erica looks encouraged. 

"I thought you liked Stiles," says Isaac.

"Sure, he's cute. I'm keeping my options open," says Erica.

[Derek honest-to-God _growls_. It's awesome.]

"Don't open them too wide," says Boyd, getting to his feet, crumpling the empty Doritos packet in one fist. He tosses it into the bin and heads down the steps, leaving Erica scowling after him.

"What the fuck was that supposed to mean?" says Erica.

Isaac grins at Boyd's retreating back. "He has the biggest crush on you."

"He does not!" Erica's cheeks flush a dark pink, and she is suddenly fascinated by the pattern on Isaac's socks.

["That's better," mutters Derek.]

*

**_7:15pm. Derek and Stiles are preparing to return to the main house._ **

Stiles pulls on his crimson hoodie - it's probably going to be colder in the main house, okay? It's nothing to do with Derek saying he looks good in red. Then he dives for the nearest mirror, frantically trying to re-sculpt his hair. 

"You look great," says Derek. 

"I look like I got electrocuted."

Derek comes up behind him and slides his arms around Stiles' middle. "You look great," he repeats, whispering it right into Stiles' ear. It makes Stiles tingle all over.

"I'm nervous. Why am I nervous?"

"It's a big deal, I guess. We've been alone for a while and now there will be people. You don't know how they'll react, and you know for sure they'll show it on TV. You're bound to be a bit nervous."

"But you're so calm."

Derek shrugs. "On the outside, maybe."

Stiles glances at them both in the mirror. They look ridiculously good together. Like something off a magazine cover. Well, mostly Derek looks gorgeous, but somehow him standing there looking good and holding Stiles makes Stiles look better. "What if it all goes to shit as soon as we're back in there?"

"Stiles, it's a reality show, not an exam. You can't get it wrong. You just have to be yourself."

Stiles nibbles on his lower lip, because that's not what he meant. He doesn't care about the competition, and although apparently he does care about getting evicted, and is relieved he wasn't, he mostly meant he doesn't want _this_ to go to shit. Because he likes Derek, really, a lot, and they haven't had a chance to talk about anything. He doesn't even know if Derek wants to maybe go for a date when they get out, because fuck, it's less than twenty four hours since he realised they liked each other, and all they've done is cuddle and make-out, and what if Cora's mad? 

"Shhh." Derek rubs his hand soothingly over Stiles' stomach. "Honestly, there's no need to worry."

"Sorry," says Stiles. 

"Don't be." Derek nuzzles at his neck, and it looks almost as fucking hot in the mirror as it feels on Stiles' skin. Stiles' breath catches and he covers Derek's arm with his own, laces their fingers together and lets his eyes slide shut.

_~Derek and Stiles. This is Big Brother. Please come to the Diary Room.~_

*

**_7.23pm._ **

Big Brother: Derek and Stiles.

Stiles: (to Derek) They never say 'hello' first when they're about to be mean to you. Did you notice that?

Derek: (shrugs)

Stiles: (squeezes Derek's hand)

Big Brother: As you know, before you go back to the main house, Big Brother has one more task for you to perform. 

Stiles: This is going to suck.

Derek: You don't know that. It might be a nice thing.

Stiles: Never say that, dude. Never say that.

Big Brother: This week, the housemates have not been asked to nominate. Instead, on your return to the house, you, Stiles and Derek, will decide who goes up for the public vote next week. You must choose two people, and you cannot choose Peter. You have ninety seconds to choose the two housemates you wish to face the public vote, starting from…. Now.

Stiles: Jackson.

Derek: Allison and Jackson.

Stiles: Wait, what the fuck dude? Allison?

Derek: She's having a miserable time and I think Erica has a point about how the public see her and Scott.

Stiles: I can't believe you just said that!

Derek: It's not like I want anyone to go!

Stiles: I want Jackson to go.

Derek: I already agreed on Jackson, Stiles. Who do you think should be the other one, then?

Stiles: Erica! Obviously!

Derek: Nope. Can't. She's pack.

Stiles: She's a girl in a reality show! God, the whole werewolf thing was so two weeks ago.

Derek: You seemed happy enough to go along with it back there in my den.

Stiles: It was not _your_ den. It was 'the' den. We shared it. 

Derek: Give me one good reason to evict Erica.

Stiles: Okay, first of all, the word is 'nominate', not evict. Nobody's evicting anyone except the public.

Derek: (rolls his eyes)

Stiles: And second of all, Erica's mean! She wants Allison out so she can get her sticky little wolf claws into Scott!

Derek: Not necessarily. And now who's keeping the wolf thing going, huh?

Stiles: You are seriously insane.

Derek: (pulling his hand out of Stiles' grip) I must be.

Stiles and Derek: (glare at each other)

Big Brother: You have thirty seconds to make your final decision.

Stiles: Erica. She's plotting behind people's backs.

Derek: Allison. She's messing with your best friend, Stiles, I don't know how you can be blind to it.

Stiles: Well, if you feel that way, how about Isaac?

Derek: Danny.

Stiles: Danny? Are you for _real_ , dude? Everyone loves Danny.

Derek: (folds his arms) So? I love Erica.

Stiles: What is it with you and the fucking man-eaters? God.

Derek: What did you say?

Stiles: First Kate, now Erica. Is that all it takes? Some girl to lick your abs or flash her boobs in a tiny bikini and you're all over them?

Derek: Yeah? Did you hear what she said in the Sky Room? All I heard was her crushing over some guy named Stiles!

(Derek and Stiles glare at each other)

Derek: Wait.

Stiles: Yeah, that's right, buddy. Unlike Allison, who wouldn't harm a fly, by the way, Erica's _competition_.

Big Brother: Do you have an answer?

Stiles and Derek: (in unison) Erica.

Big Brother: Could you confirm for me the two housemates you are nominating for eviction this week?

Stiles: Erica

Derek: And Jackson.

Big Brother: Thank you, Derek and Stiles. When you are ready you may leave the Diary Room through the door on your left, and be reunited with your housemates.

Stiles: (muttering under his breath) Seriously, Allison? Shit.

Derek: I still don't see what Kate has to do with any of this.

Stiles: Yeah, well, maybe that's the problem.

Derek: We have a problem?

Stiles: What d'you think?

Big Brother: The Diary Room door is now open. Thank you, den-mates.

They stand at the top of the main house stairs and Stiles is shaking from nerves and rage. He can't process what just happened, except that the Derek from the Wolf Den has vanished and the stupid Derek from the first week is back, and it's breaking Stiles' heart, and he's furious that anyone would ever think of evicting Allison for such spurious reasons, and what is it with the whole wolf thing, and _fuck_ they're back in the house.

"Stiles!" 

It's Scott, of course, who's notices them first. He comes flying up the stairs and takes Stiles in a huge bear-hug, and Stiles clings on, burying his face in the soft cotton of Scott's t-shirt like his life depends on it.

Somewhere to his right, he's aware of Derek disappearing under a pile of bodies, and hears an Erica-esque shriek.

Stiles clings on harder.

*


	12. Week Three: Day Seventeen

**_It's Day Seventeen in the Big Brother house._ **

**_7.30am. It's twelve hours since Stiles and Derek returned from the Wolf Den. Last night Stiles shared a bed with Scott._ **

Scott is warm and comforting and Stiles is very grateful to have him there. He's barely spoken to Derek since they came back into the house, and it's taking all his resources to keep from being upset about it. He's not allowed to talk about nominations, so he can't explain to Scott why he and Derek broke up, and because he can't explain why they broke up, he doesn't really feel he can tell Scott that they got together in the first place. It's all one big mess that's leaving Stiles confused and angry, and it's good to have oblivious, trusting, optimistic Scott to balance out his temper. 

"Erica's taking it well," Scott says. 

"Better than Jackson."

"I guess it's extra tough because he's been up every week. Hey, did you really see everything that happened here?"

It's about the fiftieth time Scott's asked him that. But it's cool, so Stiles doesn't mind telling him again. "Not everything. They turned the screen off sometimes, and we didn't get to pick what we watched."

"What did you do when the screen was off?"

"Oh, you know, task stuff."

"What's he like?"

"Who?"

"Derek? Cooped up like that with him, you must have got to know him better."

"He didn't say much. You know what he's like. He's really bought into the whole werewolf thing, though. Still thinks Erica and Boyd and Isaac are part of his 'pack'. Loser."

"He may have a point. It might have started off as a task but they're a pretty tight group now."

"Clique, Scott. The word is clique."

"What, like you, me and Allison?"

"No, we're friends. Completely different thing."

Scott grins at him. "If you say so, buddy."

"I do." Stiles stares up at the ceiling for a while, trying not to think about Derek.

"Hey, I'm really glad you didn't get evicted, man," says Scott.

"Me too," says Stiles.

He still means it.

*

**_12.53pm. Peter has been given a special task._ **

It's sofa time again, but for once it appears Stiles is spared Big Brother's attention. The spotlight is on Peter, who has been doing various tasks to re-earn his place in the house, including a lot of ridiculous working out and giving Derek unwanted advice. At least, Stiles didn't want him to give it. Derek was far too attentive to Peter for Stiles' liking. Derek's the alpha now. He should own it.

At the moment, Big Brother is quoting audio clips of things the housemates have said during the course of the previous twenty four hours, and Peter's having to work out who said what. He's very good at it. Suspiciously good, in fact: there's a few snippets from Stiles in there that Stiles had been very careful, he thought, not to say in anyone's hearing but Scott's. Peter must have been doing some A-Grade lurking to hear them. Or else maybe he's just that good at working out people's vocabulary or speech patterns or something.

Stiles favours the lurking theory.

_~Peter. Which housemate said, earlier today, 'They gave us a lot of Prosecco. What do you think happened?'~_

Peter looks straight at Stiles. Stiles' heart sinks. It wasn't him. And Peter knows it. Which only leaves one other person.

"Now, let me see.' Peter's eyes narrow and that nasty little smile slides onto his smug face. "We didn't get any alcohol last night because of Jackson and Danny talking about nominations."

Danny looks down sheepishly at the rug. Jackson glowers.

"So," Peter continues. "It must be our little friends in the Wolf Den, and seeing as Stiles has been strangely reticent about the whole thing, I'm going to say Derek."

The room falls silent, and Stiles looks at Derek, can't help it. Derek doesn't look back; his gaze is fixed very firmly on the big screen. He's tight-lipped, shoulders tense.

_~Peter. When asked who said 'They gave us a lot of Prosecco. What do you think happened?', you answered 'Derek'. ~_

There's the usual painful Big Brother pause, during which Stiles' heart runs way too fast and his hands get fidgety.

Derek's headshot comes up on the screen and the clip plays. There's no mistaking the meaning behind the words: Derek sounds annoyed. He blames the booze. He totally blames the booze.

_~You answered correctly.~_

Stiles can hear laughter and cheering, wants to run.

Erica digs Derek in the ribs. "So what did happen?"

"Nothing," says Derek. "Nothing happened."

"He fell asleep," says Isaac. "At least that's what he told me."

"Yes," says Derek, with a quick glance at Stiles. "Nothing happened. Boring story. Sorry."

"Great quote, though," says Erica. "Bet that's all over Twitter."

Stiles hears a camera whirr, glances up to see it turning in his direction. Trying to catch a reaction. It's ridiculous. He wants to cry. Why does he want to cry?

Scott squeezes Stiles' shoulder. "Okay, buddy?"

"Yeah, sure. It's true, you know, the mighty alpha can't take his booze." 

"Lame," says Scott, grinning at him, and Stiles relaxes a little bit.

_~Peter. You have successfully completed the task and will win a reward. As you know your fellow housemates so well, you should be in the ideal position to use this reward wisely. You have gained the power to bestow immunity on one of your fellow housemates. The housemate receiving this gift will be immune from nomination for the rest of the competition. However. The public have also been voting for the person they think deserves immunity the most. If you choose the same person, you will also win immunity for yourself for the next three weeks.~_

Peter stands tall, arms folded across his chest, eyes narrowed as he looks around the room. 

_~Peter. Please say the name of the person you would like to receive the gift of immunity.~_

Peter nods once, lifts his head and says, "Lydia."

Well, that's unexpected. 

"Me?" says Lydia. "Why me?"

"I think you deserve it," says Peter. "You're smart, beautiful and, although these guys don't realise it yet, you're a natural leader."

"Really?" Her expression is inscrutable, but Stiles is sure she's grateful. He's pleased she's immune. But Peter doesn't do anything without a reason. 

"It's true," says Peter. "I want to see you fulfil your potential."

_~Lydia is now immune from nomination. The person the public poll chose is…~_

"Get on with it," Stiles mutters under his breath, still jittery from the whole Derek thing and not trusting Peter at all for his choice. 

_~It is also Lydia. Congratulations, Peter. You are immune from nomination for the next three weeks.~_

Of course he is.

As soon as they're allowed up from the sofas, Stiles rushes for the Diary Room.

Derek gets there first.

*

**_13.12pm. Stiles is talking to Scott in the Sky Room._ **

"Look on the bright side," says Scott. "Lydia has immunity now. She'll be here to the final. You have more time to make your move."

"Okay, two things, Scott. One, immunity from nomination is not the same as immunity from eviction. There's lots of ways to get evicted. Like, if Big Brother decides to put us all up without any nominations at all. Or if they offer her, I don't know, a car or something if she walks."

"I don't think Lydia would walk for a car."

"I know, that's a bad example. But my point stands. The second thing is that I will not be making any moves. Whatsoever."

"Why? I think you'd make a good couple."

"No, you think that, because she's Allison's friend, we could go for double dates on the outside."

"Well… yeah, maybe. But you like her! You said so a billion times already."

Stiles picks his coke bottle up from the table and twiddles with the straw in it, poking at bubbles. "She's made it pretty clear she's not interested in me."

"What about the twelve-week plan to make Lydia fall in love with you?"

"I might have to extend it a little. Or something. I don't know. I just don't like this whole thing. I don't trust Peter. He didn't do it out of the goodness of his heart, you know."

"Maybe he did. Maybe he's grateful to be back, and-"

"For the love of God, Scott, stop. You may as well just rip your heart out and write 'trample me' on it."

Scott does stop. He bites his lower lip and stares up, out of the glass ceiling at the white, puffy clouds. 

"There's something I haven't told you," says Stiles.

Scott turns to him, concerned. "What's up, Man? Is it Lydia? I didn't mean to upset you, dude." 

"It's not Lydia. It's…" 

A nearby camera whirrs, focusing, probably on his face. Nosy little fucker. 

"It's Derek," says Stiles. "What Peter said was true."

Scott frowns. "What did Peter say?"

"We got drunk. Well, he did, mostly. And we had a bit of a thing."

Scott's eyes go wide, and he sits bolt upright. "You fucked him?"

"No! Jesus, Scott! No! In the house? Are you kidding me?"

Scott shrugs, and Stiles wonders just how far things went between Scott and Allison in the Store Room. 

"What, then?" says Scott.

"We kissed."

"Once?"

"Quite a lot, actually. And there may have been cuddling."

"Well, that explains a lot."

"What does it explain?"

"You've been weird around each other ever since you got back. I thought maybe you had a fight but I couldn't work out why you hadn't told me about it."

"Well, I can't talk about it, but we had a fight just before we came back in, whereby Derek revealed himself as a total jerk, and that was that. Over as fast as it started. Done."

"Except it's not, is it? Because if it was, you'd be down there in the pool talking to Lydia, instead of up here with me."

Stiles hangs his head.

"It's okay, dude," says Scott, squeezing Stiles' shoulder. "You'll get over it in a few days."

To his horror, Stiles feels a tear sliding down the side of his nose. Crap. He does not want to cry on camera. Ever. 

"I'm gonna go beg Big Brother for ice cream," says Scott. "Wanna come with?"

Stiles gratefully lets him lead the way.

*

**_11.26pm. Stiles has come to the Diary Room._ **

Stiles: (flops on chair) Yo Big Bro.

Big Brother: Good evening Stiles. How are you feeling?

Stiles: Just came in to say thanks for the ice cream. I had no idea Peter was lactose intolerant, I swear. 

Big Brother: You're welcome, Stiles. Big Brother realises that you were not conversant with Peter's allergies and does not hold you to blame for what happened.

Stiles: (trying, and failing, not to grin) Well, that's good. He probably needed some quiet time anyway, he's had a busy day what with dumping me and Derek in the shit and all. And doing whatever he's doing by making Lydia immune. Saving his own ass as long as possible, I guess. 

Big Brother: How do you feel about Lydia having immunity, Stiles?

Stiles: Good. Seriously, she deserves it. I don't think that's why Peter did it, for one minute. He must have known the public would pick her. And now we're stuck with him for another three weeks, which is a pain in the ass. I wanted to ask you something.

Big Brother: What is it, Stiles?

Stiles: That stuff that happened in the Wolf Den with me and Derek. All the smoochy stuff. I guess you've already aired it but… you don't have to tell anyone in here, right, not until we're out of the house? I told Scott, but that's all, and I don't want to have to look at Derek's bitch face any more if Peter gets away with his snide insinuations. 

Big Brother: Big Brother can give you no guarantees, Stiles.

Stiles: Right. That's what you told Derek this afternoon as well, isn't it? Because he's been going around looking like someone yanked his little wolf tail ever since. 

Big Brother: Do you still like Derek, Stiles?

Stiles: (lies flat on the chair, legs dangling over one armrest, head propped on the other, and looks at the ceiling)

(pause)

Stiles: Yes. Yes, I like him a lot, Big Brother.

Big Brother: Perhaps you should talk about things with Derek.

(pause)

Stiles: Can I hang out here for a bit, Big Bro?

Big Brother: Take all the time you need, Stiles.

*


	13. Week Three: Day Twenty One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Eviction Day.

**_It's Day Twenty One in the Big Brother House. Today is eviction day. Jackson and Erica are packing their suitcases, because one of them will be leaving tonight._ **

**_10.15 am. Stiles is in the Sky Room with Scott. Scott is having his breakfast._ **

Scott's eating a bacon sandwich. He's slathered it with ketchup and there's oozing and grease and Scott is having a food orgasm. It's messy and a bit messed-up, but Stiles can't stop watching him.

"Sure you don't want some?" asks Scott, with his mouth full.

"I don't think I've ever been more sure of anything in my life."

Scott shrugs, and chews.

"Who d'you think's gonna go?" says Stiles.

Scott swallows. "I don't like to think about it, man."

"I hope it's Jackson. Don't you hope it's Jackson?"

Scott ignores him and keeps eating. 

"It should be Jackson," says Stiles.

Scott swallows again, noisily, and burps. He glances at Stiles out of the corner of his eye. "You going to talk to Derek today?"

"That's below the belt, man."

"It's been four days, Stiles. You're running out of ways to avoid him."

"I'm not avoiding him."

"Dude, yesterday you hid in the bathroom for an hour in case you got put with him for the stakeout task."

"That made perfect sense. Can you imagine being cooped up in a pretend car with that guy for an hour?"

"You seemed to enjoy being cooped up in the Wolf Den with him."

Stiles flops back on the bench and pulls a blanket over his head. "Shut up, Scott."

He thinks he hears Scott laugh around his stupid sandwich.

"I really hope it's Jackson," says Stiles.

*

**_2.57pm. Stiles is in the Sky Room, hiding from Derek. Cora is in the garden, talking to Peter._ **

"Ah, Cora, Cora, Cora. I forget sometimes how young you truly are."

"I don't see what my age has got to do with it. Have you seen Derek or not?"

"Not. Nobody has, for hours. You wanna know why?"

"I want to know where he is."

"You have to think, young lady. You're his sister. You understand each other. If you understand his motives, you will be able to work out where he is."

"He hasn't really said much since the fake eviction."

"Indeed," says Peter, voice loaded with meaning. 

Stiles shifts under his blanket, risks a glance through the glass floor of the Sky Room to watch Peter and Cora standing underneath. Something about the way Peter rolls his shoulders makes Stiles think Peter knows he's there. 

Of course Peter knows he's there. Peter knows everything. 

"You think he's upset because he got fake evicted?" Cora says, uncertainly. "That he actually wanted to leave?"

Stiles wants to laugh. He can almost taste Peter's frustration. 

"Or perhaps something else happened. You know what changes people most, Cora? Love. That's what."

Stiles holds his breath for the ensuing pause, waiting for Cora to catch up, to say something, to guess. His mind presents him with a lovely image of her running back into the house yelling 'Derek! Derek! Did you make out like a demon with Stiles in the Wolf Den?' for everyone to hear, and his heart races.

_~Stiles. Big Brother reminds you that housemates are not permitted to sleep during the daytime.~_

"I'm not fucking sleeping," Stiles hisses into his microphone.

_~Please come out from under the blanket, Stiles.~_

Stiles looks down and sees Peter smirking up at him. 

"Stiles!" says Cora. "What are you doing?"

"I was here first," Stiles says, throwing the blanket off and pressing his nose to the glass. "I wasn't eavesdropping. Sheesh."

"No," says Peter. "But, you were hiding. Just not from us."

Cora's eyes go wide.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," says Stiles. 

Peter smiles and walks away.

*

_**2.20 pm. It's raining in the garden. Stiles is sitting alone in the gazebo.** _

This is not Stiles' finest hour. He's now hiding from two people, in a house that was specifically designed to be public, open and unhideable-in in every possible way. He's had to resort to enlisting Scott's help in getting everyone to leave him alone. Scott told them all he's homesick and needs to mope.

Stiles pulls his knees up under his chin, and wraps his arms around his legs. He can see the shapes of some of the others through the big windows into the main house. Erica, Cora, Jackson, Isaac and Scott, by the looks of it. They're playing catch with a bit of balled-up tin-foil. Cora makes a spectacular catch, but instead of throwing to Erica, she spins and bowls with ferocity at someone on the sofa Stiles can't see.

Then the person on the sofa stands up, and Stiles sees it's Derek. It's Derek, raising a tin-foil ball in his hand, while Cora puts her hands up to defend herself. Stiles thinks she's laughing, they're all laughing, even Derek. 

He feels a split second of complete misery and loneliness, and then Derek looks out of the window. Stiles can't see his eyes, or even his face properly, not from this distance, but he knows Derek's looking at him. The hand holding the ball drops, and the others dive to catch it before it hits the floor (golden rule of catch), and Stiles hears Jackson yelling at Derek for being so irresponsible. But Derek ignores them, moves away. He's still looking at Stiles, and he's walking towards the big glass doors, and Stiles' heart is hammering in his chest.

Derek steps out of the house and walks towards Stiles in the rain, and Stiles has nowhere left to hide.

*

_**2.25 pm. Stiles and Derek are in the garden.** _

"Hi," says Stiles, cautiously. Derek looks very intense and he's not sure what it means.

"I don't know what's wrong with me," says Derek, rain streaking down his face. "But I can't stop thinking about you."

"I guess you only have a dozen people here. Probably makes me stand out more."

"No," says Derek. "That's not why you stand out more."

Stiles swallows. "You were wrong about Allison."

"You were mean about Erica."

Stiles' stomach flips at the reminder that Erica's up for eviction. He remembers saving her from the Sky Room, cuddling with her and Isaac, trying not to look at her boobs in the shower. He feels like a traitor.

"I hate this game," he says.

"Some of it." Derek takes a step closer.

Stiles leaves the shelter of the gazebo to match that step, and then another, and then Derek's arms are sliding around him, and everything's wet, the rain smells like fresh-cut grass and gasoline, and Derek's kissing him. 

"I'm sorry," Derek says, rubbing his nose against Stiles' cheek.

"Me too," says Stiles. "Shit. Shit, we're really doing this on live TV, huh?"

"Guess so," says Derek, and gets his mouth back on Stiles'.

Somewhere in the distance Stiles hears whooping, and when they come up for breath and he looks over Derek's lovely, manly shoulder, he sees the rest of his housemates leaning over the back of the sofa in the house, watching them like they're the most amazing thing they've seen in forever.

Given that they've all been cooped up in the Big Brother house for three weeks, that's probably actually true.

"No going back now, dude," he murmurs. Then he gives Derek's ear a quick lick, tasting rain and salt and warm, amazing skin.

"There never was," says Derek.

Stiles buries his face in Derek's very damp sweater, and smiles.

*

_**9.52pm. It's eviction time.** _

_~Big Brother House, this is Emma. Erica. Jackson. The viewers have spoken, your fate is sealed.~_

They both got boos. Stiles squeezes Scott's hand on one side, and Lydia's on the other. Jackson's at the end of the sofa. There's space between him and Lydia that Stiles knows Lydia doesn't want to be there. Allison's the other side of Scott but there's something weird going on; she had to leave the house earlier to talk to the police again about Matt and when she came back she was pale and quiet and wouldn't talk to anyone but Lydia.

Derek, Peter and their pack are sitting on the wolf sofa opposite. Isaac and Boyd are all wrapped up with Erica, as if they'll be able to physically restrain her from leaving if her name's called out. Derek looks serious, sad. Sexy. 

_~Since Wednesday the British public have been voting to evict. I can now reveal that the housemate with the most votes, and the third to be evicted, is….~_

"Oh God," Lydia whispers. Stiles squeezes her hand. 

Erica's chewing her lower lip, big eyes terrified. 

_~…. Jackson.~_

Erica bursts into tears, and Stiles is so caught up in that and his own sense of relief that he doesn't take in Jackson's reaction. Next thing he knows, Jackson's hugging Lydia like he never wants to let her go, and she's hugging him back, and sobbing.

It's the most emotional eviction so far, and there's no sense of victory for Stiles when Jackson's climbed the stairs and disappeared through the sliding doors into the crowd. 

They're freed from the confines of the sofas almost immediately. Allison takes Lydia through to the bedroom to comfort her; Derek tries to put his arm around Erica but she runs to Boyd instead. Derek stands there, tense and awkward and sad. Peter's saying something to him, but Derek's not taking any notice. 

"Shit," says Scott. 

Jackson's picture on the wall goes red, and the title changes to 'evicted'.

Stiles squeezes Scott's shoulder, and meets Derek's gaze for a moment. It's not the time, he knows it's not. He and Derek made this happen. It's Jackson's moment, and Erica's. So he doesn't fling his arms around Derek's neck like he wants to. He follows Scott and Isaac into the kitchen, where they pour fizzy wine for the now-traditional eviction toast. 

"Maybe he'll come back," says Scott. "Like you and Derek, or Peter. That can happen, right?"

Stiles gives a non-committal shrug, and gets out a tray to put the wine on. 

"This is a sick and twisted game, man," says Scott.

It's a subdued night, despite the arrival of the usual Friday night pizza and alcohol. Allison collects pizza for her and Lydia and a bottle of red, and they go up to the Sky Room together. Erica and Boyd go out to the gazebo. The others sit on the sofas and talk about nothing while Derek and Danny clear up the kitchen. 

When Derek's done, he comes and sits next to Stiles, and slips a hand into his. 

Stiles flashes him a smile, and squeezes.

*


	14. Week Four: Day Twenty Two

_**It's Day Twenty Two in the Big Brother house.** _

_**9.15 am. Last night Jackson was evicted. Some of the housemates are in the bedroom, talking about Lydia.** _

"Seriously?" says Erica. "She slept all night in the Sky Room? She's insane."

"Allison was with her," says Scott. 

"All night?" Erica looks doubly horrified.

"They had blankets," says Cora. 

Derek walks past, and Stiles pauses from chewing anxiously on his thumbnail to watch. Derek is shirtless, wearing only his sleep pants. He has a towel slung over his shoulder. 

Stiles smiles at him, and Derek smiles back, without breaking his stride.

Derek's awesome, as it turns out.

"I hope they come down soon," says Scott. "Jackson wouldn't want her to be sad."

"She'll see him when she gets out, anyway," says Cora.

"Not necessarily," says Erica. "He wants to do modelling in London and she'll be going back to California to start college in the fall. Long-distance relationships suck."

Stiles drags his attention back from the corner of the bedroom, where Derek is sorting through his pile of clean underwear. He clears his throat. "Hey, Cora?"

"Yep?"

"Talking of home…. where did you say you live?"

"About thirty miles from you, dumbass. Other side of the Beacon Hills Preserve. Remember?"

"Oh, yeah. Sorry. I forgot."

Cora rolls her eyes. "And yes, Derek lives there too."

Stiles grins, and winks at her. 

"D'you think we should go and talk to them?" asks Scott. 

"Absolutely not," says Erica.

"Sure," says Cora.

"Stiles?" says Scott. "What do you think?"

"Sorry," says Stiles. "What was the question?"

*

_**2.42pm. Scott is sitting by himself in the bathroom.**_

Stiles is having a complicated day. First of all there was the thing with Lydia and Allison, which ended with Allison and Scott exchanging a lot of hurt looks that Stiles didn't really understand, while Lydia gave Stiles a long and incisive lecture about The Problem With Men. Then they had to do a task that was a bit like Truth or Dare, but the Dares mostly involved getting gunged. This was followed by an extended period in the shower getting purple goop out of his hair while Derek held his towel and laughed at him.

Now Scott's rushed off to the bathroom, claiming that he got onion juice in his eye, and Allison's crying in the Sky Room. Stiles has a nasty suspicion that these two incidents are related and that, in fact, the onion is a lie.

Stiles pushes the bathroom door open, and goes in. 

Scott's sitting on the edge of the bath, wrapped in a towel, with a plastic duck in his hand. He's stroking its little yellow head. 

This is not promising.

"Yo, Scotty."

"Leave me alone, Stiles."

Stiles perches next to him on blue tiled platform that surrounds the bath. "Yeah, that's not gonna happen. What's up, man?"

"Nothing."

"If you don't 'fess up, I'll just ask the duck, you know that, right? You might not talk but those little yellow bastards will tell you anything for a puddle and a bit of bath foam."

Scott doesn't laugh, doesn't even smile. He grunts, though, and Stiles will take that for a start.

"Tell me," Stiles says. "If it's private we can go cuddle under a duvet and talk there."

Stiles is briefly reminded of a plan he has for Derek that evening, which also involves cuddling and duvets. But he can't be thinking about that sort of thing right now. He focuses his gaze firmly on the duck.

"You know Allison saw the police yesterday?" says Scott.

"Yeah. Was it okay? Are they pressing charges?"

"That's why they needed a statement. She said there was a delay because of some kind of incident at the police station, so they put her in a waiting room. While she was there, she overheard some of the other people there talking. She thinks maybe they recognised her, because they were talking about the show, and the security guy she was with kept trying to talk to her, to distract her. But she kept listening, and realised they were talking about her parents. Stiles, they split up. Allison's mom's left and she found out from strangers in a freaking waiting room."

"Oh, shit."

"She thinks it's because she's been in here. Her mom didn't want her to do this, you know? She was worried about the publicity for the family back home. Her grandfather's running for Governor next year. And after all the crap with Matt, the press must have been insane."

"Why didn't they tell her they broke up?"

"No idea. Maybe they didn't want to spoil things for her? She's talking to her dad tonight, she's got special permission for a phone call."

"Why is she even still here?"

"She asked to leave straight away, but they convinced her to wait until she's talked to her dad."

"That's so messed up, dude."

Scott sniffs loudly, and a tear falls down the side of his nose to drip onto the duck. "She feels betrayed because they kept secrets from her. I tried to tell her it would be okay. I remember when my dad left, how crappy it was at first, but it gets better. She got kinda mad at me. I think she blames me. Matt may be the big story but what if it started before that? What if her parents hate me? What if it's all my fault?"

"Oh, buddy, no. If her family's fucked up it's nothing to do with you, okay? All you did was meet a pretty girl and make out with her for a while. You weren't the one who fucking _assaulted_ her. You had a sweet, chaste relationship."

"Um." Scott looks down at the duck. The corner of his mouth twitches up for a second. "I'm not sure chaste is the right word."

"Wow," says Stiles. "Really?"

"Really. We were definitely not chaste. What if that's what it was, Stiles? What if they showed it and her mom saw it? I've ruined everything."

"If they filmed it, they showed it, dude, you know how this thing works."

"We were really careful."

"What d'you mean? They film everything."

Scott booped the duck on its beak. "Hmm."

"Unless….."

Scott looked at Stiles, and Stiles looked back, and raised an eyebrow, and Scott nodded.

"Where-"

"Don't ask," says Scott. 

"Okay. Wherever it was," - Stiles is inevitably running the possibilities over in his head - "whether or not it ended up on TV, you didn't do anything wrong. Maybe the papers run a few stories about romance and sex in the house. So what? You're both single. Unless her family are some kind of religious nuts. Oh God, they're not, are they?"

"Not exactly. Although Allison did say her mom once threatened to cut her prom date's dick off if he didn't bring her back before curfew."

Stiles winces. "Ouch. Still, that's about respect, right? You were very respectful of Allison."

"Yeah, of course. If anything she was the one who… did you know she stole condoms out of Kate's luggage when she was helping her pack?"

"Holy shit!"

"Yeah. There's still one in the box under my bed if you want it, dude. You know, for Derek."

"Shut up," says Stiles, and tries very, very hard not to think about having sex with Derek. Because he wants to be a good friend here, not a drooling moron.

Scott sighs deeply. "We're not even together any more. I've lost her, Stiles."

"It's okay, man," says Stiles, patting Scott's back. "You've still got me."

*  
_**7.15pm. Derek is working out in the garden with some of the other wolves. Stiles and Scott are watching from the gazebo.**_

Every time Derek moves, something ripples. It's fascinating. Even when he's perfectly still, his eyebrows can do it. Stiles wonders if Derek ripples in his sleep. He makes a mental note to do a study on it later. 

Scott chuckles.

"Yeah?" Stiles can't quite take his eyes off Derek. He's also keeping tabs on Peter, who's sitting on the spiral staircase to the Sky Room, ostensibly scrutinising his fingernails. In reality he's looming. Stiles can tell.

"You're totally in love with Derek," Scott says.

"I think the word you're looking for is lust," says Stiles.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night."

"I've only known him for twenty two days. And I don't think I really spoke to him for the first two weeks."

Derek tells Cora and Isaac to take a break and get a drink. He's glistening with sweat, and when Cora chucks him a bottle of water he catches it effortlessly. Stiles resists the urge to applaud.

"Time's different in here," says Scott. "Trust me, I know. Hey, where's Erica and Boyd?"

"Taking a bath, I think."

"Still not speaking to Derek after the whole nomination thing?"

"Nope."

"That sucks, man."

Stiles' gaze drifts to Derek's mouth. He's tipping water into it, licking his lips, swallowing.

"Yeah," says Stiles, surreptitiously adjusting himself. "Sure does."

Peter's off the stairs and moving towards the house. 

Stiles watches him, eyes narrowed, and considers following. But Derek's doing his warm down, stretching his beautiful, glistening limbs, and Stiles really doesn't care about much else.

*

_**8.47pm. This afternoon Allison left the house for reasons outside of the House. Big Brother has gathered the housemates on the sofas to make an announcement.** _

Derek's sitting opposite Stiles as usual. Stiles winks at him, and Derek raises an eyebrow. Flirting is awesome. 

Boyd and Erica are sitting at one end of the wolves' couch, with Isaac and Peter between them, and Derek and Cora at the other end. It's starting to piss Stiles off; he knows Derek's upset that Erica's ignoring him and it's not fair. 

Scott is next to Stiles, staring down at his feet. 

_~Housemates. As you are aware, Allison left the house earlier today.~_

"Oh God," murmurs Scott. "She's not coming back."

_~At the moment it is unclear as to whether or not Allison will be returning to the Big Brother House. We will update housemates tomorrow.~_

"She'll be back," says Lydia, confidently. "If she didn't leave because of Matt, she won't leave because of this. She just needs to get her head straight."

"Lydia's right, buddy," says Stiles, patting Scott on the knee. "It'll be fine, you'll see."

"But it's against the rules," wails Scott. "What if they won't let her?"

_~Allison has requested a number of her personal possessions from the Big Brother house. One housemate will come to the Dairy Room to collect the list and Allison's small suitcase, pack the items and put them in the store room for collection.~_

Scott looks panicked, but Lydia's already on her feet. "I'll do it, Big Brother."

She smooths down her skirt and heads for the stairs, sharing a little glance with Stiles as she goes. He feels the usual rush of pleasure that goes with any hint whatsoever of Lydia noticing him. But it's different this time. He can't quite put his finger on it, but it feels better. More real. He gets a sudden vision of a future where he can ring Lydia up at midnight with a fascinating theory about something, and Lydia telling him to fuck off because it's midnight, not because she sees him as a crazy stalker dude. 

It's a nice thought. 

*

**_It's 10:52pm. Stiles has come to the Diary Room._ **

Stiles: I have a question, Big Bro.

Big Brother: Big Brother will endeavour to inform, Stiles.

Stiles: Heh. I love your British accent. It's adorable.

Big Brother: Big Brother likes your accent, too, Stiles.

Stiles: I'm really feeling the love tonight. You need to know that. I have a lot of love for you. So much. 

(pause)

Big Brother: Big Brother regrets to inform you that no more curly fries will be delivered to the house this evening.

Stiles: Hey! I wasn't just after curly fries! Although, seriously? None at all?

Big Brother: There won't be any more curly fries, Stiles.

Stiles: Aw. Well, never mind. (sits back in the Diary Room chair, hugging one knee up to his chin) Actually, I also came to ask about the rules. Specifically the rules concerning nominations.

Big Brother: Big Brother is always happy to help housemates to understand the rules of the House. What is it you wanted to ask?

Stiles: Can you talk about nominations after someone's been evicted? 

Big Brother: Stiles, Big Brother's rules are very clear. Discussing or hinting at who you might nominate in the future, or have nominated in previous weeks, is not allowed.

Stiles: Oh. Well, yeah, I guess I knew. (throws his arms out in exasperation) It's Erica, man. I don't mind that she's not really talking to me, but Derek doesn't deserve the silent treatment. He still has this idea of all of them as a pack, and he's been really sweet to her. It's cutting him up that she's not onside any more, and he didn't even want to nominate her in the first place. I want her to know that. She can blame me all she likes, but she shouldn't blame Derek.

Big Brother: The rules are very clear on this, Stiles. If you talk about nominations, including those in the past, Big Brother will have no choice but to take action. Rule breaking is taken very seriously indeed.

Stiles: Yeah, yeah. I know. Okay. 

(pause)

Stiles: (fiddles with his shoelaces)

Big Brother: Can Big Brother help you with anything else, Stiles?

Stiles: Is Allison okay?

Big Brother: Allison is in good health. 

Stiles: Yeah, but is she-

Big Brother: Housemates will be informed as to Allison's decision tomorrow.

Stiles: Well, I hope she's okay. Tell her that, if you can. Please?

(pause)

Stiles: I really like Derek.

Big Brother: What is it you like about Derek, Stiles?

Stiles: (smirking) Big Brother will be informed about Stiles' opinions of Derek at a later time. 

(pause)

Stiles: See what I did there? Not so much fun when you're on the receiving end, huh?

(pause)

Stiles: Seriously, no more curly fries?

Big Brother: Stiles, unless there's anything else, Big Brother has to ask you to please leave the Diary Room.

*

_**11.08 p.m. Cora and Erica are having an argument about their sleeping arrangements.** _

Stiles leaves the Diary Room feeling somewhat rejected, and jogs down the stairs to find the kitchen and living area empty. It's very odd. It's way too early for bed time. It's possible the others are playing a prank on him, like that time when Scott hid behind the plastic tree in the smoking area to jump out on Allison. It hadn't worked; she took him down with one flick of her wrist and tickled him senseless while he lay helpless on the floor.

Stiles cautiously opens the big sliding doors to the garden, and is instantly met with the sound of yelling coming from the rooms opposite. He runs across the grass, through the big swing doors and into the bedroom, to find a scene of utter, noisy chaos. At the centre of it are Erica and Cora, yelling at each other. It's hard to make out what they're yelling about, because everyone else is yelling too, either telling them to stop or throwing their contribution into the argument, and then Stiles sees Derek, looking completely stricken, trying to pull Cora back. Erica looks like she's about to throw a punch.

_~This is Big Brother. Erica must come to the Diary Room immediately.~_

So that's why he got chucked out of the Diary Room.

Stiles grabs Scott, who's rolling up his sleeves, ready to break up the fight. Or possibly join in; Stiles can't be sure. "What the fuck's going on, man?"

"Erica wanted to break the beds apart," says Scott.

"She… what?"

Scott doesn't stop to answer; he launches himself into the fray, catching hold of Erica as she lunges for Cora. She struggles and kicks at him, and she's strong - Derek's workouts are clearly effective - but Scott's stronger, and he keeps her flailing limbs a safe distance from Cora. 

_~ Erica must come to the Diary Room immediately. ~_

"Come on," Scott tells Erica. "We're going."

Erica sobs angry tears, yelling at Cora as Scott drags her off. "Fucking bitch! Keep your filthy hands off my boyfriend, you hear me?!"

"He's not your boyfriend!" Cora yells back. "And I don't fucking want him anyway!" Derek claps his hand over her mouth, wincing when she bites him. 

"Are we talking about Boyd?" Stiles asks Lydia, who's standing to one side, calmly observing the whole fracas. 

"I believe so, yes."

"I totally thought he was Erica's boyfriend."

"He is Erica's boyfriend. They've been together since the werewolf task."

"But Cora…?"

"Cora," says Lydia, "has been talking to Peter. And so has Erica. But not at the same time."

Peter. Of course. 

Cora wrenches herself free from Derek and runs to the toilet, slamming the door behind her. Derek looks set to follow, but Isaac puts a hand on his arm and he subsides, sinking onto the floor by the door instead, head in his hands. 

"Dude," says Danny, wide-eyed. "What the fuck just happened?"

"We've been cooped up in a house together for four weeks," Lydia says. "It was bound to happen eventually. In fact, in psychological terms, we've done really well to last this long."

Stiles knows she's right, but the others break out into a babble of futile analysis nonetheless, more interested in the excruciating details of the fight itself than its inevitability. Adrenalin and hostility crackle in the air; Stiles goes over to Derek and sits beside him on the floor.

"You okay?" he asks, stroking Derek's arm through the soft fabric of his Henley. 

"It's my fault," Derek says. 

"That seems unlikely."

"It was because of the beds." 

"Okay, you're losing me a bit here. What about the beds? Did Erica find Cora in one of them with Boyd or something? Because I really fail to see how that could be your fault."

"No! Cora wouldn't do that. Erica wanted to pull the double bed away again, so she and Boyd could be on their own. Cora thought they should have asked me first."

"Okaaaay. I'm still not getting how it went from that to all that stuff about people stealing each others' boyfriends?"

There's a wail from the toilet; poor Cora is sobbing her heart out. Derek looks up, hand twitching towards the doorknob. But Lydia arrives, stepping over their legs, barefoot and dressed in a huge grey t-shirt, to rap her knuckles on the toilet door. 

"Cora, it's Lydia. Let me in. I promise the morons will stay outside while we talk."

There's a pause, and the sobbing subsides to loud sniffling.

A moment later the door swings open, and Lydia goes in.

Stiles and Derek watch the door close. There's no lock on it, but to all intents and purposes it may as well be bricked up for all anyone's going in there right now. 

"Come with me," says Stiles. "Let's go somewhere quiet. Lydia will take good care of her."

As they walk across the garden to the gazebo Stiles notices a shadowy figure sitting on the spiral stairs that lead to the Sky Room. 

Stiles doesn't need to look closer to know it's Peter. And he can just imagine the fat, smug smile on his face.

*

_**1.05am The Housemates are all in bed at last.** _

Stiles snuggles under the covers, Scott a warm, comforting presence behind him. He has no idea why it feels normal to spoon with his best buddy just because he's in a reality TV show, but it does. They all do it. It's comforting. Tribal. 

He looks across at what used to be the pack-bed, to exchange a smile with Derek, who's carding his fingers through Cora's hair. It looks as if she's finally fallen asleep, curled up in Derek's arms, her tear-blotched face buried in his chest. It's just the two of them, now, in the triple bed. Boyd and Erica have taken the double at the other end of the room, the one that used to be Jackson's, and Derek chucked Isaac out into the double that used to be pushed up with the triple. Stiles told him not to, but he is rapidly learning that Derek has a stubborn streak a mile wide. Once he got it into his head that allowing Isaac to show allegiance to him and the fight-tarnished Cora might have implications for Isaac come nominations day, there was no dissuading him from breaking up the rest of his little pack. So Isaac's sleeping on his own, his back to everyone, radiating misery.

Lydia comes back from the bathroom and slips into the bed she may or may not still be sharing with Allison, and a weird sense of loss stabs at Stiles' chest. It's silly. It's just a game. In a few weeks' time it'll be over, and he'll be back in Beacon Hills, getting ready for college.

Stiles sighs deeply. Scott nuzzles at his shoulder.

The lights go out.

_~ Good night, Housemates. Sleep well. ~_

*


	15. Week Four: Day Twenty Three

_**It's Day Twenty Three, and the planets are aligning. This week, unbeknownst to the Housemates, Big Brother's Eclipse is coming.** _

_**8.32 am. Big Brother has a special wake-up call for the housemates.** _

Stiles never thought he would dance to 'Total Eclipse of the Heart'. But then again, he'd never realised how important music was, or how much he'd miss it. But he does, it's like going without sunshine, so when he wakes to the first notes of the piano his heart sings, and by the first 'turn around' he's out of bed and singing; by the first chorus he's pulling power moves and duetting with Scott.

They're not the only ones. Isaac's on his knees playing air guitar; Danny's grinding into the mirror and Boyd, Erica and Lydia are swaying and arm waving. 

Cora and Derek aren't dancing but they are laughing at the rest of them. Stiles has never seen Derek laugh like that before. It's pretty awesome. Derek puts his whole body into it and somehow makes it look graceful and manly. Quite an achievement.

The song ends, but Stiles is way too hyper to stop after all that excitement, so he grabs Scott and they sing it through again acapella, with extra melodramatic theatrics, until the others attack them with pillows to make them shut up. Then there's running and flailing and a massive pillow fight. Stiles swings blindly at someone - oh, wait, it's Derek, he'd recognise those abs anywhere - and then there's a puff of synthetic feathers and Stiles pounces, taking advantage of the momentary confusion to tackle Derek to the floor and sit on him. 

_~This is Big Brother. Stiles, please come to the Diary Room.~_

"Aw, shit." Stiles kisses Derek, grinding on him a bit, making him growl. "They're no fun."

Derek slaps him on the ass. "Go. You'll get in trouble."

Stiles smirks at him. "I'm always in trouble."

"God help me," says Derek, and surges up, throwing Stiles completely off balance. Next thing Stiles knows, he's tossed over Derek's shoulder, and Derek's marching off to the Diary Room. Stiles can't protest for giggling; he smacks ineffectually at Derek's back, right in the middle of the cool tattoo he has there, but Derek's holding him tight around the thighs, just under his ass, and things are about to get interesting. Then they reach the Diary Room. The entry light comes on as soon as Derek hits the button, and the door opens.

*

Derek: (tosses Stiles onto the Diary Room chair) Hey, Big Brother. I think you asked for one of these?

Stiles: (lies on his back, arm thrown across his eyes, breathless with laughter)

Big Brother: Thank you, Derek. That's just what Big Brother ordered.

Derek: Enjoy. (leaves Diary Room)

Stiles: Aww! (makes grabby hands towards closing door) No, come back! It was just getting fun!

Big Brother: Stiles. Big Brother would like you to calm down a little.

Stiles: (flops back on chair) Spoil sport.

Big Brother: Big Brother always has your welfare at heart. 

Stiles: Yeah, right.

(pause. Stiles slowly regains his breath)

Stiles: That was the best wake-up call ever, Big Bro. Thank you.

Big Brother: You're welcome, Stiles.

*

_**9.05 a.m. Some of the housemates are making breakfast. Scott has made Stiles a sausage sandwich.** _

Stiles hops up onto the stool at the breakfast bar, and reaches for the ketchup. It's weird British ketchup, but he's starting to get a taste for it. Unlike the peanut butter. British peanut butter is just _wrong_ , and this causes Stiles a good deal of displeasure, because peanut butter is usually one of his main food groups.

The sausages, though, are amazing. Stiles questions many of Scott's choices, often including what he puts in a sandwich, but this is perfect. Succulent, tasty meat, grilled tomatoes, a smidge of mustard and a soft, white bun. 

_~This is Big Brother. Would Lydia please come to the Diary Room.~_

Stiles puts his sandwich down. Allison. Shit.

Scott's watching Lydia run up the stairs to the Diary Room. He's cradling his mug of coffee in his hands, clutching it to his chest. 

"Great sandwich, buddy," Stiles says, softly. 

"Thanks," says Scott, gaze still fixed on the stairs. "I mean, it could be something else they want her for, right? It doesn't mean…"

"Sure," says Stiles. 

"I hope she doesn't leave," says Isaac, and Stiles jumps, because he didn't realise Isaac was standing right behind him. 

"Me too," says Scott.

Stiles hears the woosh of the Diary Room doors opening again and gets to his feet, so he has a clear view of the top of the stairs. He's holding his breath.

He sees Lydia, and his heart sinks on Scott's behalf. But, wait. It's not just Lydia.

Walking a bit behind, clutching Lydia's hand like a lifeline, is Allison.

It's a race to see who gets to her first. 

Surprisingly, Isaac wins.

*

_**11.45 a.m. Stiles is pacing.** _

It's a busy day for the Diary Room. No sooner has Allison been returned to the fold than Cora's called in. Then Erica. Then Boyd. Then Derek. 

Stiles finds himself loitering anxiously in the living area while Derek's in the Diary Room, afraid that he'll never come back out. But he does, after an agonisingly long time. His eyebrows are looking very serious, and Stiles is pleasantly surprised when Derek comes and sits next to him on the sofa. He pulls Stiles in close and hugs him, and Stiles hugs him back, breathing in the scent of his shower gel and shampoo and wondering what the fuck's going on.

"Are… are you leaving?" Stiles whispers.

Derek snorts a laugh into Stiles' shoulder, but doesn't let go. "No, you idiot. They just wanted to talk about Cora."

"Oh. Is it okay? Is she okay? Because it totally wasn't her fault, or Erica's. It was Peter stirring things. In fact I should tell them, I should go tell Big Brother now, put a stop to it." Stiles is halfway to his feet, but Derek pulls him back down. 

"What would you say, Stiles? What did Peter do, exactly?"

"Well… I don't know. Not exactly. But he did something!"

"Think about it a minute. How is it going to look if you go in there and throw unfounded accusations around? What would it achieve? It's all over and done with. Cora and Erica have apologised to each other, Erica and Boyd are fine, Cora's fine. Look, even Isaac's fine."

Derek points to the garden. Isaac, Allison, Lydia and Scott are in the pool, happily tossing a beach ball about. They look like an advert for sun tan lotion. 

"I don't trust Peter," says Stiles.

"Neither do I," says Derek. "D'you want to go play in the pool with Scott?"

Stiles winds his arms languorously around Derek's neck. "I'd rather stay here and play with you."

Derek's eyebrows do a sexy little quirk. "Oh, would you now?"

"Yes," says Stiles, moving in so he can feel Derek's breath on his face. "I would."

His mouth's on Derek's and they're kissing, and it's slow and sexy and makes Stiles tingle from head to foot. He grabs handfuls of Derek's hair and tugs gently, pressing his body in close. 

"I haven't come in twenty three days," says Derek, hoarsely.

"Me neither," says Stiles.

"I don't think I can make it to twenty four."

"Keep kissing me like that and maybe we won't have to," says Stiles.

Derek makes an undignified squeaking noise. "Live TV, Stiles. Live TV."

"Like I care." Stiles gives Derek a sly look and wriggles a hand down between their bodies.

Derek grabs his wrist. "You really are going to be a handful, aren't you?"

"More than that. Two handfuls, easy." Stiles slithers his hand out of Derek's grip, laces their fingers together and now he's pushing Derek's hand down below belly button level. "Wanna find out?"

Derek freezes and they stare at each other for a moment. Derek's cheeks are flushed and his lips are wet, and he is fucking _smouldering_ at Stiles. Stiles releases his grip, waits to see what Derek will do, how far he'll take this. He's pretty sure that in the outside world this would be like, what, their third date? Stiles would have him naked by now. Naked and in his bed and Stiles would be enjoying him like a freshly-unwrapped birthday present. 

"I-" Derek starts. His fingers twitch against his lower belly, and Stiles gasps.

_~This is Big Brother. Stiles, please come to the Diary Room.~_

"Oh, for crying out loud!" Stiles wails, letting his head drop on Derek's shoulder. "They hate me! Why? Why do they hate me, Derek?"

Derek pats Stiles on the back. He pats a lot more calmly than he's breathing.

_~This is Big Brother. Stiles, please come to the Diary Room.~_

"Alright! I'm on my way, you bastard!" Stiles yells. He pulls away from Derek - gorgeous, sexy, horny Derek - and gets to his feet, blatantly adjusting himself before trotting up the stairs. 

He glances in the mirror as he goes, and sees Derek flop back onto on the sofa, pulling a cushion over his lap. 

Stiles presses the Diary Room button, and grins to himself.

*

**_11.55. Big Brother has asked Stiles to come to the Diary Room to make his nominations._ **

Big Brother: Good morning, Stiles.

Stiles: Yeah, hi, what do you want? I was a bit busy, in case you hadn't noticed. Which you did, because 'Big Brother sees everything', right?

Big Brother: Big Brother would like you to make your nominations for this week. Then you will be free to go back to the house. 

Stiles: Wow. Someone's got his authority on this morning.

Big Brother: Stiles, please give the name of your first nomination, and explain your reasons for this nomination.

Stiles: (runs his hands through his hair) Wow. Seriously, right now?

(pause)

Stiles: Okay. Well, it's tough. Because the person I really want to nominate is immune. That's right, isn't it? I can't nominate Peter?

Big Brother: Peter and Lydia have immunity this week.

Stiles: Yeah, smart move, Big Bro. I guess all his mind-fucky schemes are really compulsive viewing, huh? Well, it's not good to live with. I'll just put that out there.

Big Brother: Stiles, please give the name of your first nomination, and explain your reasons for this nomination.

Stiles: Alright, alright. Damn. This is hard. (Stiles gnaws briefly at his thumbnail) Okay. My first nomination is Boyd. I've got nothing against the guy, but he's kind of stand-offish. And yesterday, when the girls were fighting over him, he didn't try and stop it. He just stood there, looking… I dunno, scared? Whatever. I don't get him. I'm sure he's lovely, but. Yeah. Boyd.

Big Brother: Thank you, Stiles. Now, please give the name of your second nomination, and explain your reasons for this nomination.

Stiles: (takes a deep breath) Isaac. Because I don't trust him.

(pause)

Big Brother: Please give a full and detailed reason for your nomination.

Stiles: What, not trusting him isn't good enough? I don't like the way he's been looking at Allison. Scott's my bro and all, but he's way too gullible. I just don't like his attitude. Okay?

Big Brother: Your nominations this week are: Boyd and Isaac. Thank you, Stiles, you may rejoin your housemates.

Stiles: I have a question.

Big Brother: Yes, Stiles?

Stiles: Is there any chance you could let me and Derek back into the Wolf Den and turn off the cameras, just for half an hour?

(pause)

Stiles: Fifteen minutes? Ten? Come on, Big Bro, my balls are gonna explode, have you _seen_ what he looks like? I have to live with that, every day, twenty four/seven, and for some completely bizarre reason I think he would actually _let_ me bang his brains out if we could. Please?

Big Brother: Stiles.

Stiles: (sits on edge of seat, licks his lips)

Big Brother: Thank you for your nominations. You may now leave the Diary Room.

*

**_4.55 pm. Big Brother has gathered housemates to hear the results of this week's nominations._ **

Stiles' hair is still damp from the pool and he's shivering; Big Brother did not give him time to get dressed before coming to the sofas and he's pissed off about it. Derek managed to snag a towel from the bathroom on the way in. He drapes it over Stiles' shoulders and kisses his forehead before taking up his customary seat on the opposite sofa.

"You're grinning like an idiot," says Scott, eyes twinkling. 

"That's because I am an idiot, idiot," says Stiles, and pulls the towel tightly around him. 

_~Housemates.~_

"Oh, here we go," mutters Stiles. He takes hold of Scott's hand, and waits to hear his name called out.

_~Last night, Housemates broke one of Big Brother’s fundamental rules. Rule number six states that you must not threaten or use physical violence towards any other Housemate. Big Brother considers any threat of physical violence towards another Housemate to be unacceptable behaviour. Last night Cora and Erica broke this rule. As a consequence, they have not been permitted to take part in this week's nominations.~_

Suddenly the morning's frenzy of Diary Room activity makes sense. Derek looks grim; Cora's hand is gripping Derek's tightly and Erica's chewing on a strand of hair. 

_~The rest of the housemates completed their nominations. Here are the results. The housemates nominated and facing eviction by the public this week are:~_

Stiles' leg jiggles. He grips Scott's hand a bit tighter. 

_~Boyd. And.~_

There's a lot of sympathetic glances in Boyd's direction. Stiles notices that Scott doesn't look up, though. For some reason that makes Stiles feel better. 

_~Cora. And.~_

"No! Shit, Cora!" Derek looks distraught. Cora shushes him, shakes her head. 

_~Danny. And.~_

Okay, that's plain ridiculous. There's uproar until Danny himself shushes them, reminds them that Big Brother's not done.

_~Erica.~_

Stiles waits for the 'and'. It doesn't come. That's it. He's safe. Derek's safe. Scott's safe.

"It's okay," says Erica. "I deserved it."

"Me too," says Cora.

"None of you deserved it," says Scott. "It's not fair."

"Oh, come on," says Peter. "Of course it's not fair. It's a game! Why do none of you ever remember that?"

"Have some respect, Peter," says Derek. 

"Nobody died," Peter mutters. "I got evicted and look at me. Right as rain."

"Just shut up, okay!" Stiles says. "We don't care about your opinion."

Erica bursts into tears.

*

**_6.51pm Erica is alone in the bedroom, feeling sad._ **

Everyone else is either out in the smoking area or cleaning up after dinner, but Stiles slips away to the bedroom. He finds Erica balled up under the duvet of the bed she now shares with Boyd. 

"Hey, Erica?" He keeps his voice low so as not to wake her if she's asleep.

"Go away, Stiles."

"Can I get you anything to eat? Or a cup of tea?"

"Told Boyd. Not hungry."

Stiles sits on the edge of the bed. "I'm sorry."

There's a rustling noise, and Erica sticks her head up out of the duvet. "What for?"

"That you're up for nomination. I mean it's not my fault, not this time, but I'm sorry. It sucks."

"Nobody made me pick a fight with Cora."

"Are you sure about that? I thought maybe Peter-"

"What d'you mean? Peter was trying to stop me."

Of course he was. Stiles can just imagine how that conversation went. 'Erica, you mustn't get angry, whatever you do, that wouldn't do at all but Cora is fucking your boyfriend. Now, tsk, tsk, Erica, put the claws away, you don't have to… oh dearie me what have you done.'

"Whatever," says Stiles. "I don't think you deserve it."

"Thanks, Stiles." Erica sits up, and runs her fingers through her glossy golden hair. "I shouldn't be such a baby. I mean, I get it, everyone gets nominated at some point. I can't blame Derek for getting his own back, especially after Cora got in trouble for breaking the rules."

Stiles frowns. "I don't think Derek nominated you."

"Why not? He did before."

"Yeah, but he didn't want to. Believe me, he really didn't. It was my idea. We had a huge row about it and everything. It was horrible, and I feel horrible about it. We both do. I'm sure he wouldn't have done it again."

Erica makes a thoughtful, pouty face. "Oh."

"Anyway. I'm sorry. And you're not going to get evicted. You survived this far, didn't you? Now, are you sure you don't want that tea?"

To Stiles' surprise, Erica pulls him in and gives him a big hug. He's getting distracted by how soft the skin of her cheek is, and how strong her arms are, when she whispers, "Tea would be lovely, thank you." 

Stiles is happy to oblige.

*

_**12.07 am. The housemates are having an early night.** _

Everyone's in bed, the lights are out, and Scott is breathing softly into the nape of Stiles' neck. Stiles snuggles into his pillow, and lets himself drift. 

He has this little ritual when he's falling asleep, of calculating what time it is at home, and working out what his dad will be doing. It's gone midnight in the House, but it will still be Sunday at home. And midnight means… 4pm in Beacon Hills. So his dad will will probably be a couple of hours from the end of his shift unless his pattern's changed. If nothing bad's happened, he'll be sitting at his desk, doing his paperwork.

Stiles wonders if his dad will be thinking of him, and gets a sudden stab of homesickness so strong he gasps with it. 

Scott tightens his hold around Stiles' middle, and nuzzles his shoulder. "S'alright, man," he mumbles. "Go t'sleep."

Stiles wraps his arm over Scott's, and murmurs back. "Thanks, man."

He thinks he feels Scott smile.

*


	16. Week Four: Day Twenty Five

_**It's Day 25 in the Big Brother House.** _

_**8.21 a.m. Big Brother has called the housemates to the sofas.** _

"It's too early," Stiles complains, flopping down on the sofa. He pulls his legs up and swivels around so he can lean on Scott. 

"You should try taking some exercise sometime," says Lydia. She's dressed in tracksuit bottoms and a baggy t-shirt, with her hair scraped back in a ponytail. She's been doing tai chi in the garden with Derek and the wolves. Stiles preferred to stay in bed. Well, Derek had told him to stay in bed, because last time he joined in tai chi he kept falling over and giggling, and Derek said it ruined the ambience. 

At the mere thought of Derek, Stiles starts to get a hard-on. Shit. He grabs a cushion for his lap, and tries to think unsexy thoughts. It doesn't work. Nothing works. It's not even as if they've been spending much time together. Yesterday, the shopping task started ('feats of heroism') which involved Stiles standing alone on a log suspended over the swimming pool all day, trying not to fall off. He was there for hours, because Big Brother refused to tell them how long he had to stay on to prove a sufficient level of heroism. It was all very annoying. He still doesn't know if it was long enough, because they won't tell him until the task ends. Then in the evening, Scott was sad about Allison, so Stiles hung out with him in the garden for a while. There was something in the air: Isaac and Boyd were pretty miserable too, Isaac still all hurt about Derek kicking him out of the pack (which now consists of just Derek and Cora) and Boyd because he's up for nomination. 

So Stiles hasn't had any quality time with Derek in nearly twenty four hours, and Stiles' dick does not understand why he can't a) have sex with Derek like right now this minute, or b) if that's impossible for some inconceivable reason, get jerked off instead. Because Derek's hotness has ignited Stiles' already overactive libido and God, it's all he can think about.

_~Housemates. When you entered the Big Brother House, you were made aware of the rules concerning nominations. It is against the rules for Housemates to discuss their nominations with each other. This includes discussing or hinting at who you might nominate in the future, or who you nominated in previous weeks.~_

Stiles' stomach sinks.

"Oh come on," says Derek. "Nobody's that idiotic."

_~Stiles. At 6.51pm on Day twenty three, you were talking to Erica in the bedroom, and you said: 'I don't think Derek nominated you'. You also said, 'He didn't want to. Believe me, he really didn't. It was my idea. We had a huge row about it and everything. It was horrible, and I feel horrible about it. We both do. I'm sure he wouldn't have done it again.'~_

"Oh shit," says Stiles.

_~Stiles, Big Brother takes rule breaking very seriously. As a consequence of you discussing nominations, the house will have no hot water until further notice. In addition, all electrical appliances and beauty products will be confiscated from the bedroom and bathroom areas. You will all remain seated on the sofas while Big Brother removes these items.~_

"Oh God! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry, guys! Shit! I had no idea they'd punish everyone. I wasn't thinking, and Erica was sad. Shit, shit shit."

He can feel Lydia glaring at him, and Cora's rolling her eyes. Scott shrugs. 

Derek gives Erica's arm a gentle squeeze and says, "It wasn't just him. It was a joint decision. I'm sorry, Erica."

"It's okay," says Erica. 

"You're an idiot," Derek tells Stiles, but his eyes are kind of twinkly.

Lydia takes a few moments to explain to Stiles, in grave and specific terms, why she is not at all pleased with him for dooming them to cold water and no beauty products. Danny and Isaac aren't impressed either. But Erica comes and squeezes his hand, and smiles at him on her way to the kitchen, and, well, Stiles has no regrets.

A cold shower is probably just what he needs. 

_**11.15am For this week's 'Feats of Heroism' task, housemates are being faced with challenges to test their mettle. Isaac is in the Diary Room, being shown a short film. The rest of the housemates are watching Isaac on the screen from the sofas, but they can't see what Isaac's watching.** _

"I don't get it," says Scott. "What are they gonna do to him?"

"Comprehension test, maybe," says Lydia.

"Maybe it's a moral dilemma?" suggests Allison.

"Maybe it's porn," says Danny, somewhat wistfully.

Stiles glances at Derek. He can't help it. Derek licks his lips, which does not help Stiles' ongoing boner situation at all.

Whatever they're showing Isaac has finished. The screen goes off and the shutters in the living area come up, revealing a large metal bathtub out by the pool. It appears to be full of water.

"Oh my God," says Lydia. "It's not a challenge for him. It's a challenge for me. They're going to make me watch him take a nice hot bath."

"I said I'm sorry," mutters Stiles.

"No," says Allison. "I think…. What's that floating on the top?"

"Rose petals?" says Lydia.

"Ice cubes," says Scott. "Shit. That's an ice bath."

Isaac emerges from the Diary Room and joins them to peer out of the window.

"Oh, fuck," he says. "I'm never gonna see my testicles again, am I?"

"You'll be okay," says Allison, encouragingly. "We believe in you."

Stiles keeps his mouth shut.

_~Housemates. Please go into the garden and gather around the tub.~_

They dutifully traipse outside. Stiles falls in next to Derek, who takes hold of his hand. It's warm and nice, and Stiles wishes he could drag Derek off to the bedroom and get his hands on his dick. Or get his mouth on his dick. Oh God.

Maybe he should volunteer for the ice bath instead of Isaac.

_~Isaac, please get into the bath.~_

Isaac kneels by the tub and sticks his hand in, only to jerk it back out with a yell. 

"Come on, Isaac," says Derek. "You can do this."

"He's right," says Scott. "We'll all be right here, cheering you along."

Isaac strips down to his boxers. They all make encouraging noises as Isaac puts one naked foot into the tub. He yells out again as soon as his toes hit water, but to his credit he keeps going until he's got both feet in, and then, very slowly, he sits. Scott kneels at the side of the bath and keeps eye contact with him. Derek kneels on the other side. They each put a hand on Isaac's shoulder, keeping him steady. 

_~While he was in the Diary Room, Isaac saw excerpts from a well known movie. The rest of you must work out what movie he saw. You can ask any questions of Isaac you like, but he may only answer 'yes' or 'no'.~_

"Star Wars!" Stiles blurts out.

_~The task begins…. Now.~_

"Star Wars!" Stiles yells again.

"No," says Isaac.

"Questions," Lydia says. "Don't waste time guessing, Stiles."

"Was it a sci-fi movie?" Stiles says, but it's too noisy for Isaac to hear; the others are barraging him with questions too, and Isaac's shaking his head, shivering something fierce.

"One at a time," says Lydia. "Scott, you go first."

"Was it a sci-fi movie?" says Scott, because he is the most loyal bro in the history of bros.

"No," says Isaac.

Lydia nods towards Allison, who's standing next to Scott. "Rom-Com?" says Allison.

"No."

They go round the circle in an orderly fashion, and by the time they get back to Scott they've established it's not a sci-fi, rom-com, crime thriller or horror movie; it was released in the past five years; it had famous actors in it; and it did very well at the box office. And Isaac's lips are turning blue.

"Is it set in Europe?" Stiles asks. Isaac shakes his head, and Stiles sneaks in a follow-up. "America?"

"No."

"Is it set anywhere on earth?" asks Boyd.

"He said it wasn't sci-fi," says Stiles, irritably.

"No," says Isaac. "Nowhere on earth."

"Oh, wait!" says Scott. "It's a fantasy movie!"

"Yes," says Isaac. "Could we hurry this up? I can't feel my fucking toes."

"Lord of the Rings!" says Allison. But no, that's too old, he said the past five years which means-

"The Hobbit!" says Scott.

"Hunger Games," says Stiles.

"Yes!" yells Isaac. "The Hunger Games. Yesyesyesyesyes! Can I get out? Please, can I get out?"

_~Stiles guessed correctly. The answer was 'The Hunger Games'.~_

"That's totally sci-fi," says Lydia. "They had advanced technology, for goodness sake." But everyone hushes her, and Isaac grips the sides of the bath, ready to leap out. Allison grabs a towel from the pile Big Brother has thoughtfully left next to the bath, ready to rub him down.

God, Stiles would love to rub Derek down. So much. 

_~Isaac may now give the housemates the final clue, then he may get out of the bath.~_

"Beware the dark," says Isaac, and leaps out of the bath. Allison wraps him in a towel and she and Scott crowd close to warm him up. 

Derek leans in close and whispers in Stiles' ear. "Well done."

Stiles could almost burst with pride.

"What d'you mean, 'beware the dark'?" says Scott.

"I don't know," says Isaac. "They just told me to say it."

"That's creepy," says Danny. "It's not like we even control the lights."

"Maybe it's another clue for the next part of the task," says Derek. "No need to panic."

"I wish we had hot water in the shower," says Isaac, through chattering teeth.

"Sorry," mutters Stiles. "I can go get you one of your delightful sweaters, if you like?"

Scott gives Stiles the most reproachful look Stiles has had from anyone except his dad. 

"Sorry," he says again. But this time he kind of means it. 

*

_**The housemates are unaware that there will be two evictions this week. The first housemate chosen by the public to be evicted will leave the house in secret during tonight's Big Brother's Bit on the Side. A second housemate will be evicted on Friday as a consequence of Big Brother's ingenious twist.** _

_**3.27 pm. Stiles is with Derek in the bathroom.** _

As if being cooped up isn't bad enough, the lights keep going out, which feels particularly sinister thanks to Isaac's warning. 

But Stiles gets an idea. 

He starts to follow Derek around the house. 

Derek doesn't seem to mind, although he raises an eyebrow when Stiles takes up station at the side of the bath to watch Derek wash his underwear. 

The lights go out.

Stiles reaches out for Derek, but he's underestimated how slippery the tiles are and ends up not only landing in the bath of cold, soapy water, but dragging Derek in with him. He opens his mouth to apologise but then Derek's kissing him, and suddenly Stiles' world is dominated by the heavy weight of Derek's awesome body on top of him, Derek's tongue in his mouth and Derek's cock digging insistently into his thigh. 

"You're so smart," Derek whispers, and licks at Stiles' ear, which send shivers of pure joy down Stiles' spine. 

"Takes one to know one," says Stiles, generously, and runs a hand down Derek's back to land on the glorious curve of his ass. 

"God, I want to touch you," says Derek. "Can I touch you?"

"Yes, fuck, yes-"

The lights come back on. 

Derek whimpers into Stiles' shoulder.

"Next time," Stiles gasps, "don't waste time asking."

"Gotcha," says Derek.

*

_**9.15pm. The housemates have been gathered on the sofas.** _

_~This is Big Brother. During the shopping task this week housemates scored points for enduring various feats of heroism. Derek's trial by beta task scored one hundred and fifty points. Erica's celebrity bitch slap task won forty-five points. Scott's suicide runs won ninety five points, and Allison's knife throwing gained housemates eighty points.~_

"I remember," mutters Isaac, cupping a protective hand over his shoulder where one of the knives had nicked him.

"Sorry again," says Allison.

_~Boyd won fifty points for his vow of silence and Lydia sixty points for her wailing woman task. Danny gained the group thirty points for his baptism of fire and Stiles won three hundred and fifty points for balancing on the beam for four hours and fifteen minutes. Finally Isaac scored two hundred points for the ice bath challenge. This makes a total of 910 points._

_Your alpha should now pick up the envelope from the table, and read the contents to reveal the target the group had to reach to win this week's luxury shopping budget.~_

Derek picks up the envelope. Stiles sits on the edge of his seat. Luxury shopping budget means curly fries, Nutella and good sausages. Non-luxury budget means rice, chick peas and that awful peanut butter. This is really, really important.

Derek pulls the card out of the envelope, and Stiles starts rejoicing immediately, because Derek grins broadly before reading, "Five hundred points!" 

They all leap off the sofas and hug each other, everyone happy that they'll get their own little luxury for the week ahead. 

The lights go out.

Lydia screams.

Stiles reaches for her but he can't remember exactly where she was in relation to him or Scott. He feels a hand on his shoulder and knows it's Derek, hears Scott's calling out Lydia's name. Everyone's talking at once until Scott raises his voice. "Shut up everyone! We're okay. It's just a task. Are you okay, Lydia?"

"I'm fine. I'm sorry. I thought I saw someone, and I got this really bad feeling, like someone's missing."

"It's probably just the mirrors," says Allison. "You know, like when you can see people behind them in the camera runs sometimes."

"Are we all still here?" says Derek. "I'm going to call out names, just say you're here. Stiles."

"Here."

"Scott."

"Here."

He continues: Allison, Lydia, Danny, Isaac, Erica.

Silence.

"Erica?"

There's no reply.

"Erica, are you alright?" Derek's voice has an edge of panic to it. "Boyd?"

"Here. What the fuck, where's Erica? She was right here!"

The lights come on.

Erica's gone.

*

_**11.56pm. Scott and Stiles are in bed, talking about Erica.** _

"I honestly thought she'd been kidnapped," says Scott.

He wasn't alone. The house was bordering on panic when Big Brother intervened and told them what had happened. 

"It's a horrible way to be evicted," Stiles says. 

"Yeah. I wonder if she still got an interview with Emma and Rylan and everything?"

"Lydia thinks she did. Timing was right for the live show. I hope so. She was really looking forward to meeting them. Especially Rylan."

"Yeah. I hope so too." Stiles rubs the wet off his cheeks with the back of his hand. 

"I know it's just a game," says Scott. "But it really sucks."

"Yeah. I mean, why Erica? Why couldn't Peter have disappeared in the dark instead?"

Peter interrupts their conversation from across the room. "I heard that."

"So?" says Stiles. "It's true."

"Oh. Well, fine, then," says Peter.

Stiles rolls his eyes. He thinks he can hear Derek laughing.

*


	17. Week Four: Day Twenty Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And it's eviction day again.

_**It's Day Twenty Eight in the Big Brother House.** _

_**8.02 a.m. Big Brother has decided it's time for the housemates to wake up.** _

One minute Stiles is writhing about with Derek on the floor of the forest in the Beacon Hills Preserve; the next his whole person is shrieking at the sudden intrusion of the loudest klaxon Stiles has ever heard. In an instant he's wrenched from nice, steamy dream-Derek space into the harsh reality of the Big Brother house. It doesn't get much less noisy when the klaxon stops, because everyone is yelling to complain about it.

Stiles sticks his head under his pillow in an effort to drown them all out, and it's then that he notices he has another problem.

A sticky, humiliating sort of problem.

Stiles slides his hand down between his stomach and the sheet, and finds everything a lot gloopier than he'd have liked. 

"Fuck," he says into the mattress, under the pillow.

"I know," says Scott, rolling over and throwing an arm over Stiles' back. "I was having a lovely dream, too."

"Uh, yeah, buddy. And I'm really sorry, but little Stiles got a bit carried away, so I'm gonna have to go beg for clean sheets."

"What?"

Stiles pulls Scott under the duvet to whisper in his ear. "Wet dream, man. I'm sorry."

"Why?" says Scott, with a leering grin. "Were you dreaming about me?"

"Haha, you wish. No. Derek. There was a forest. You know what? I blame Big Brother. I've been here twenty seven days without so much as a dribble. I think the noise of that fucking klaxon literally _scared_ the jizm out of me."

"Yeah, sure. Whatever you need to tell yourself, man."

"No, seriously!"

"It's no big deal. I've had to take care of business a few times. It's normal."

"There is nothing normal about rubbing one out in front of a bunch of fucking cameras on live TV, dude."

"It's not like they'll show it. They can't see you from the waist down in the shower, anyway."

Stiles remembers something about that from auditions. Jackson had asked specifically. 

"Take my advice," says Scott. "Don't let it build up like that. It's not good for you. If jerking off doesn't work for you, get Derek to help out."

"It is all his fault, anyway," says Stiles. He rolls over and pushes back the duvet, and the first thing he sees is Derek himself, sauntering towards the bathroom with a towel over one shoulder. He's topless, and his skin shimmers under the harsh artificial light as he walks. Damn. 

Stiles dives back under the covers and looks down at his groin, where his cock is well on its way to a perky boner. "Are you kidding me?"

Scott looks down too. "Dude. You need to get laid, man."

"Tell me about it," says Stiles.

*

**_8.56 am. Stiles has come to the Diary Room to talk to Big Brother._ **

Stiles: (sits on the edge of the Diary Room chair, clutching a pillow case into which he's crammed all the sheets from his and Scott's bed)

Big Brother: Good morning, Stiles.

Stiles: Oh, great, of course it's one of the girl-Bros.

Big Brother: What can Big Brother do for you today, Stiles?

Stiles: Well, yeah, sorry, hi. I need clean sheets. 

Big Brother: Stiles, housemates are issued with clean bedding each Saturday. It's Friday today.

Stiles: (grips pillow case a bit harder) I'm not kidding. If not for my sake, for Scott's. Please. It's just one day early. Or else give me a washing machine and some decent detergent and I'll do it myself. I do all the laundry at home, you know. Including my dad's uniforms. They're very tricky. Lots of buttons.

Big Brother: Stiles, if you open the hatch you will find a fresh set of bedding. Please take it and leave your laundry in its place. 

Stiles: Oh God, thank you, Big Bro, thank you. 

(Stiles swaps his laundry for clean sheets)

Big Brother: Sweet dreams, Stiles.

*

_**9.15 am. Stiles is in the bedroom, making his bed.** _

Derek saunters back into the bedroom, wearing a shirt with tiny little sleeves that show his arms off ridiculously well. Stiles wants to lick them. 

"I thought clean sheet day was Saturday," Derek says.

"It is." Stiles savagely shakes out a crisp, white sheet and watches it float down onto the mattress. "This is all your fault."

"What? How come?" Stiles sees Derek's reflection in the mirror behind the bed. He looks all innocent, even a little indignant.

"Exactly," says Stiles, darkly, and starts tucking in corners.

Derek shakes his head and wanders over to his and Cora's bed, where Cora is laying out her clothes. Stiles' heart sinks: she's doing that because it's eviction day, and soon the suitcases will arrive for the nominees to pack their things in case they have to leave. 

"You're not going anywhere," Derek tells her, and kisses her on the cheek.

"At least I get to pack my own stuff," says Cora. "Boyd did a crap job of packing Erica's. I keep finding her eyeliner pencils and odd socks everywhere."

Stiles grabs one corner of his duvet and starts stuffing it into its cover. Then he looks for the other corner, by which time the whole thing has gotten folded over itself. Fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck-

"Need a hand with that?"

Stiles pulls his head out of the duvet cover and blinks up at Derek.

"Here," Derek says, taking the whole mess from him. He plunges his hands inside the duvet cover, does some kind of magic trick and gives the whole thing a giant shake. The quilt floats down like a smooth, pillowy marshmallow, impossibly neat. 

Derek grins at him. "There you go. All done."

"Well, thanks. You just saved me from certain suffocation."

"Any time," says Derek, and kisses him.

"Just think," says Cora. "One day you'll be able to do that on a bed you can have sex in."

A pillow sails past her head to hit the wall behind her.

"Amateur," she mutters.

*

_**3.56 pm. Stiles is sitting in the Sky Room, keeping an eye on Peter.** _

Peter is in the smoking area, talking to Lydia and Allison. Lydia and Allison are holding hands, which is an interesting development. Everyone cuddles a lot, but holding hands feels different. Lydia has been very protective of Allison since she came back into the house, and Stiles loves her for it.

Peter is looking marginally less smug than usual, which is nice to see. 

There's a clang on the spiral stairs, and Stiles sees Cora climbing up to join him. She flops down onto the bench next to him.

"Look after him for me, Stiles?" She grabs a cushion and starts picking at the tassels on the edges of it. 

"I won't have to. You're not going anywhere."

"Don't argue with me. He came here because of me, and if I'm going first, I need to know there's someone taking care of him."

Stiles watches her raking her fingers through the silky tassels for a moment before he replies.

"You know I will, Cora. Always."

She glances up at him, and smiles.

*

_**9.40 pm It's eviction time, but this week Big Brother is planning a big twist.** _

_~Housemates. This is Emma.~_

They all wave and say hello.

_~This week the viewers have been voting to evict. However.~_

It will probably take years of therapy before Stiles can trust the word 'however' again.

_~Before the eviction continues, one of you has a difficult decision to make. Derek.~_

Stiles' heart pounds and he squeezes hard on Scott's arm. 

"Yes," says Derek, his voice steady.

_~As the alpha of the house, you have special powers. This evening you will have the opportunity to use these powers for the benefit of yourself, or to give them away for the benefit of a fellow housemate.~_

Derek nods.

_~When I have given you the alternatives, you will have thirty seconds to choose what you would like to do with your powers. Other housemates will remain silent. Here are your choices, Derek.~_

The ensuing pause is as predictable as it is painful.

_~Choice number one is to keep your power for yourself. You will continue to be alpha, and you will also be immune from nominations for the rest of the show.~_

Stiles gasps; that's a huge opportunity. He wants to yell at Derek to take it there and then, but the last thing he needs right now is more trouble, so he holds his tongue and waits.

_~The other options open to you are to give your power to one of the housemates up for eviction tonight, either Cora or Boyd. Whichever housemate received your power would not be alpha, but they would be safe from being evicted tonight._

_You now have thirty seconds to reach your decision. Will you keep your alpha power, or will you give it to Cora, or to Boyd?"~_

Derek doesn't need thirty seconds, of course. He nods and sits a little taller, a little straighter, and waits, and Stiles could weep for him as the seconds count down. 

"Derek, your time is up. Please tell Big Brother what you have decided to do with your alpha power."

"I want to save Cora," Derek says. 

Because, of course he would. It's what Derek would always choose, and Stiles' heart wants to burst with affection for him. 

"No!" Cora yells. "No, wait, he didn't mean it!"

_~Derek. Is that your final answer?~_

"Absolutely," says Derek.

"No! What about Boyd? I should take my chances with the vote, you can't, you shouldn't…"

"It's okay," says Boyd, and gives Cora a hug. "I've had a great time. I'm alright with this."

_~Derek has chosen to use his alpha power to save Cora. He is no longer the alpha of the house, and Cora is immune from this week's eviction. Therefore, the person leaving the house this week, and the fifth to be evicted, is Boyd.~_

_~Boyd. You have been evicted from the Big Brother House. You have thirty seconds to say your goodbyes.~_

Boyd hugs Derek first, whispers something in his ear, and then Cora flies into his arms and Stiles wonders if Erica is watching this on the outside, and if she is, whether she'll be pissed. Then Boyd's headed for the door, hi-fiving the rest of them on his way. They all hover at the bottom of the stairs as he runs to the top, watch him take a breath and ready himself before the doors slide open and the crowd noise rushes in like a thunderclap. Stiles thinks he hears someone yell 'Get Peter Out!' which is gratifying.

Then the doors close, and Boyd and the outside world are gone.

Stiles goes to the wolves' sofa where Derek's sitting, downcast, staring at his feet. Stiles sits by him, squeezes his shoulder, and leaves his hand there, keeping contact.

Over by the stairs, Cora's crying, staring up at Boyd's picture as it goes red.

"I couldn't do anything else," Derek says, softly. "I had to save her."

"I know, big guy," says Stiles. "I know."

*


	18. Week Five: Day Twenty Nine

_**Day Twenty Nine. Last night Derek chose to save Cora, which led to Boyd being evicted.** _

_**11.38 am. Stiles is reassuring Derek in the gazebo.** _

It's raining again, and it's chilly. Stiles pulls his hoodie around him, keeping his hands inside the sleeves. 

"It's not your fault, man," he tells Derek. "No-one blames you."

"I do."

"So, what, you think you should have got your own sister evicted instead?"

"I could have kept the power. Let the public decide."

"Okay, a) in what way is that better, and b) how do you know they wouldn't have evicted Cora?"

"Well, a) it would have been fair, and b) I don't, but Cora's fun and interesting and Boyd's really quiet, so she stood a good chance."

Stiles considered for a moment. "Actually, that's quite clever."

"Except I didn't do it. Couldn't face the risk."

"There was that fight with Erica, I guess. You never know who's coming out best on TV for those things. Depends how they edit it."

"Exactly."

"So, like I said, you didn't really have a choice. Boyd understood that. Cora understands that."

"Cora's mad at me, because she didn't want to get through by 'cheating' as she puts it."

"It's all in the past now. Nothing you can do."

"I feel like a total bastard."

Stiles kisses Derek's cheek. "Not a bastard."

"You're biased." But there's a tiny smile on Derek's face, and he kisses Stiles' nose. "You're also freezing."

"So warm me up."

"Sure. We could jog round the garden a few times."

"That wasn't what I had in mind."

"Well, you could always go get a sweater."

"I don't possess any sweaters. You're thinking of Isaac, and I'm pretty sure he's wearing all of his today. I suppose I could go get a blanket."

"You could."

Stiles hesitates. There's something off about Derek, something he can't quite put his finger on. Something more than just feeling bad that he had to make a difficult decision.

"Okay," Stiles says. "I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere."

He runs into the house and comes back two minutes later, clutching a blanket.

Derek's gone.

Cora's sitting in the gazebo instead. She's doing bicep curls, using a couple of bottles of water as weights.

"Hey," says Stiles. "What did you do with Derek?"

"He's in the Diary Room."

Stiles gets a shiver that's not just the cold. "Why?"

"Because he wants to talk to Big Brother, I would imagine."

"Is he leaving?"

"What? No. Don't be ridiculous. He wouldn't do that. He'll be back."

She doesn't look as completely certain as Stiles would like. 

"What's wrong with him?" asks Stiles. "It's not just Boyd, is it?"

Cora gives one of the bottles of water to Stiles, and opens the other for herself. "Are you serious about him?"

"About Derek?" Stiles' heart races. It's a big question, one he hasn't even discussed with Derek or Scott yet. But he knows the answer, even if he can only give it in a small voice. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am."

"Well, good. Because when Derek gets involved with people, it's not just for laughs. I know he only knew Boyd a few weeks. But for him to go out that way, because of Derek - it's really tough. It's like losing family."

"It's really not, you know." Stiles, who has lost family, knows that it feels exactly like someone taking your whole world and shaking it up like a snow globe; and when it's done swirling you're missing part of your soul. "Believe me. It's a game show, and we have to do difficult things. We signed up for this." 

"It's different for Derek. I don't know why. It just is."

"I know why," says Peter.

Stiles jumps. He has no idea where Peter just popped up from, but suddenly he's right there, leaning against the post of the gazebo to Stiles' left as if he'd been there all along.

"What d'you mean?" says Cora.

"I know why he finds all this so hard," says Peter. "See, this isn't Derek's first reality show."

"What are you talking about?" says Cora. 

"She is his sister," Stiles points out. "I'm sure she'd have noticed."

"Let's see, how old are you, my dear?"

"Seventeen."

"Ah, well, that explains it. You would only have been twelve at the time. Off at boarding school, if I'm not mistaken, and far too young for your mother to let you hear family scandal."

"You are so full of shit," says Stiles.

Peter shrugs. "You could always ask him about it yourself. If he ever comes out of the Diary Room, that is."

"Tell me," says Cora, frowning. "What happened?"

"Well, put it this way: this isn't the first time he's had to make a difficult decision on live TV. There was a show back then, a dating show with a twist. It was called 'Take Me To Prom', and the idea was to match up High School kids and send them on dates. The usual stuff happened, lots of terrible chat-up lines and innocent first kisses, and then in the end everything got cut-throat and the final four couples had to try and split each other up."

"Wait," says Stiles. "Are you telling me _Derek_ went on this show?"

"That's exactly what I'm telling you. I should know: I was his chaperone. It was family entertainment, had to make sure the kiddies didn't get carried away."

"And he met someone?"

"He certainly did. He's always had looks on his side. The cameras love him."

Stiles swallows. He doesn't want to hear this, but of course he has to.

"So what happened?" asks Cora.

"He met a girl. A shy little thing, very pretty. Very smart, actually. Too smart for him. But things progressed and it was all very sweet. Everything was going fine. Too fine. By the time they got to the final week, they were pretty much inseparable, and their little teenage hearts were breaking because they lived at opposite ends of the country. Winning was suddenly the most important thing in the world. If they won, they'd get to go to each others' proms, do publicity together, appearances, advertising deals - happy ever after. If they didn't, they'd never see each other again."

"If you're warning me about the perils of long-distance relationships," says Stiles, "don't bother. Not only do I already live in pretty much the same town as Derek, with my own transportation, but I'm going to good old BHU in the Fall. No long-distance relationships for the Stiles."

Peter rolls his eyes. "Not everything is about you, Stiles. This is about Derek and Boyd, remember? Now, Derek knew a few things about the other contestants, because not all of the chaperones were as discreet as I. He bugged one of the changing rooms. I advised him against it, of course, but he wouldn't listen to me."

Stiles' eyes narrow; he's sure Peter's lying, but he can't stop listening.

"Suffice to say the press learned some very interesting things about the other contestants. Scandalous things. I forget the details, but I think one of them had a secret boyfriend outside the show, another had cheated in their SATs, someone else had been suspended for smoking pot in the school boiler room. Just the kind of stuff the tabloids love. So far, so good. But Derek had forgotten one thing. He'd fallen for a girl with morals and standards, and they didn't stretch enough to accommodate Derek trying to fix the contest by sleaze attack, no matter how much she loved him. Especially as she was implicated by association. She was furious, dumped him on live TV, and they got voted off the show the same day. That was the last Derek ever saw of her. She didn't even turn up for the finale."

"And Derek blamed himself?" says Cora.

"Of course. So did everyone else. Let's face it, it pretty much _was_ his fault. Not as if anyone made him do it."

"I don't believe you," says Stiles. 

Peter shrugs. "Ask him yourself. If he ever comes out of the Diary Room, that is."

Peter turns and walks towards the house, leather coat swishing around his legs, and Stiles hates him with every single fibre of his being.

*

_**1.43 pm Stiles and Derek are in the Sky Room, talking about yesterday's eviction.** _

Stiles points to the foil-covered plate on the table in front of them. "I saved you lunch. Lydia was in charge of the kitchen, so it should be okay. And frankly, you're lucky I snuck it out for you. Scott was hoovering up everything even vaguely edible. I think he's worried we'll fail the next task and end up on chick peas."

"He can have mine," says Derek. "I'm not hungry."

"Okay, you know what? You have to stop this whole martyr trip. The eviction wasn't your fault. Boyd will understand. He'd have done the same in your position."

Derek grunts. He stretches his arms out in front of him, clasping his fingers together, and stares bleakly down through the glass floor of the Sky Room. Stiles finds his gaze following Derek's. There's a lavender bush down there, waving in the breeze. He wonders if it's always here, or if they landscape fresh each season. "You knew Peter before you came into the house," he says.

"He told you?"

"Yeah. He told us quite a lot of things. Like, he was your chaperone on some other reality show."

"There's a lot you don't know about me." It sounds like a warning, but Stiles is done with Derek's attitude, so he doesn't rise to it.

"So, tell me. We've got at least another five days in here. You can tell me a lot in five days."

Derek stays silent. He folds his arms over his chest. 

"Fine." Stiles rips the foil off the plate of sandwiches and digs out the chicken and lettuce one. It's made with really cool seeded bread that he's getting to love and hopes like hell he can find back in Beacon Hills. He takes a bite and doesn't finish chewing before he speaks. "Let's start with relationships. Had many of those?"

"A few."

Stiles waits, but Derek fails to offer any further details. "Boys or girls?"

"Both."

Well, that's progress. "First one?"

Derek glances sharply at him. "What did Peter tell you?"

"Aha. So she was the first, then. Reality-show girl."

"I don't want to talk about that. Especially not that." Derek nods at the camera which is no doubt focusing on his gorgeous face, and then stares back at the floor again.

"Okay. Let's make it a bit more abstract." Stiles swallows the last of the chicken sandwich and picks up another. Ham and mustard this time. Squishy white bread. Lydia hadn't been kidding when she said she was craving variety in any way she could find it. "How many times have you been in love?"

"Twice."

"I'm guessing it ended badly?"

"First time I betrayed her, second time she betrayed me, so yeah, you could say that."

"Is this why you wanted to get with Kate? Did you want to get betrayed again?"

"I didn't want to get with Kate."

"Oh, really?"

"Jealous, Stiles?"

It isn't teasing or gentle. There's something nasty in the crook of Derek's smile.

"Okay," says Stiles. "You stay here and carry on being an asshole. I'm leaving."

Derek shrugs.

"And I'm taking the sandwiches with me."

Stiles picks up the plate, chucking the foil vaguely in Derek's direction (and missing), and stomps down the stairs. 

*

_**3.15 pm. Stiles is taking a bath with Scott.** _

Scott tips his head back on the rim of the bath, and lets his feet float up. "Dude, it's gonna feel weird taking a bath without a swimming costume on when I get home."

"Well, there's nothing to stop you," says Stiles. "You could do it every now and then. Put on your speedos, get in the bath and think of me." He blows a mound of foam at Scott, who laughs when it lands on his chin. 

"Next you'll be asking me to Skype in the bath with you."

"Well, obviously. Goes without saying, man."

The door from the garden slides open, and Derek comes in. 

"Hey, Derek, you'll make Stiles Skype me in the bath when we're at college, won't you?"

Derek raises an eyebrow. "Aren't you worried the phone would get wet?"

"Yeah, good point." Scott reaches for a towel and makes to stand up.

"Wait, where're you going?" asks Stiles.

"I need to pee. Besides, you guys have stuff to talk about."

Stiles tries to communicate to Scott, by facial expression alone, that leaving is the last thing that Scott should be doing, because Stiles is totally over Derek's bullshit and hey, they were enjoying a great man-tub there. But Scott ignores him, smiles at Derek, gets out of the bath and skips off to the bedroom in his big, pink towel.

"Well, bath-blocker," says Stiles to Derek. "You getting in or what?"

"In the bath? With you?" says Derek. "No."

He sits on the edge, though. Then he takes a big, deep breath.

"When I was a sophomore in High School," Derek says, "my older sister Laura put me up to be on this reality show, where I met a girl and fell in love. I was young and stupid, and did something really awful that messed everything up. We broke up, and she left the show with her reputation in tatters. She got bullied and had to move schools three times. It was horrible."

Stiles moves little foam islands around on the surface of the water. Derek watches them.

"In Senior Year," Derek continues, "I went out with a guy. We were paint-balling in the woods. He got hit in the chest and died instantly."

"He died of a _paintball_ injury?" Stiles stares at Derek, eyes wide.

"Turns out he had a heart defect nobody knew about."

"Shit."

"Yeah. When I was at college I did a bit of cage-fighting to help pay the bills."

Stiles' jaw drops. "Cage-fighting? Seriously, Derek, most kids wait tables or make hamburgers to see them through college. What the fuck made you take up cage-fighting?"

"It pays really well," says Derek. "I won a lot."

Stiles sighs. "Of course you did."

"There was a woman who worked at the gym that put on the fights. I got beat up one night, she took me home to fix me up and one thing led to another."

Stiles really isn't sure whether he wants to know all this. "Derek-"

"Next thing I know, she's trying to persuade me to beat her ex-boyfriend to a pulp. A dead pulp, specifically. On national TV"

"What the fuck?"

"Jungle Fight Club."

"Shit. Seriously?"

"Yep." Derek picks up one of the foam islands, rests it on his palm. "I refused."

"Well, that's something. I used to watch that show before they banned it. It was brutal."

Derek nods. He's sculpting the foam into something Stiles can't quite see.

"So, let me get this straight," says Stiles. "You screwed up your first girlfriend's life on a reality show for teenagers. Your first boyfriend died in a freak paintball accident. And your next conquest tried to get you to kill her ex on live TV."

"Yep," says Derek, and lays the foam back in the bath. It's in the shape of an 'S'. "And now there's you."

"That's it? No other relationships? One-night stands? Blind dates?"

"Nope," says Derek.

"I'm not going to ask you to murder anybody." Stiles leans forward, catching Derek's gaze, putting wet fingertips on his bare arm. "Boyd bears no grudges about you picking him to go instead of Cora, and I fully intend to hang onto you like a fucking leech when we're out of here. My heart is strong as an ox. The medic that looked us over before we came in here said I was one of the healthiest eighteen year olds he'd ever met, which is quite something considering the amount of pizza and fried chicken I eat. So."

"So?"

"So stop moping, you dumb asshole. Stop feeling guilty. You had to make a difficult decision in a reality show, and you decided in favour of letting your sister continue to do this thing she's wanted to do, like, forever. Nothing terrible happened. I still like you, and I have barely any moral standards to speak of, which makes me very difficult to offend. I'm not going to dump you. So just get over yourself, okay? Stop brooding."

Joy flickers in Derek's eyes, and he surges forwards to kiss Stiles, arms going around him with no fear for how wet and foamy Stiles is. When Stiles pulls him closer, he comes willingly. There's a loud splash, water sloshes out onto the floor, and suddenly Derek's in the bath. Fully clothed. But he's laughing, and he keeps kissing Stiles through the laughter and foam; Stiles is wriggling with happiness, and just at that moment it feels like his heart really could burst.

But only in the best possible way.

* 

**_11.55 pm. Stiles is talking to Big Brother._ **

Stiles: (sits cross-legged in the chair, dressed for bed in sleep-shorts and a 'stud muffin' t-shirt, with a little smile on his face) 

Big Brother: Good evening, Stiles. How was your day?

Stiles: One word? Educational, Big Bro. And, speaking strictly man-to-man, seeing as you are a man tonight, there was some quality making out on the sofa earlier, while the others were arguing about the kitchen rota. It's left me very horny. But happy. Definitely happy. And horny.

Big Brother: Big Brother noticed you spent a lot of the evening with Derek.

Stiles: Big Brother really doesn't miss a trick, does he? 

Big Brother: Big Brother sees everything.

Stiles: Well, Big Brother is a perv, frankly. (winks at camera) Not that I mind. Although, must admit, when I signed up for this I didn't think it would be me providing the material for anyone to perv on. 

Big Brother: What did you expect you would be like in the house, Stiles?

Stiles: I figured I'd be the dork who pissed everybody off by being mouthy and irritating. It's pretty much what I do everywhere else. 

Big Brother: Do you think any of your housemates are pissed off with you?

Stiles: (considers for a moment) Isaac, obviously. Lydia's pretty much pissed off with everyone. Peter hates me, but that's mutual, I'd start worrying if he didn't. Apart from that… huh. Well, what d'ya know? (looks up, eyes wide) It actually feels like I've made friends, you know? I mean… Danny and I talked about Star Wars for like an hour yesterday. And Allison asked me about my dad's job, because she's thinking of maybe going into law enforcement. Oh and I gave Cora a neck massage when she got a headache, she was all sweet and grateful. And Scott, well, Scott's my best friend. The best friend I've ever had, you know?

Big Brother: And what about Derek?

Stiles: (with a little smile) He was being very nice to me tonight on the sofa, wasn't he B-B?

Big Brother: Big Brother is happy you've made friends, Stiles.

Stiles: I live to serve. (yawns) Time to go crash. Scott should have warmed the bed up nicely by now. G'night, Big Bro.

Big Brother: Good night, Stiles. Sleep well.

*


	19. Week Five: Day Thirty One

_**Day Thirty One. Yesterday, Housemates heard they had failed the weekly shopping task because Cora and Danny did not pass Big Brother's Deadly Poisons Challenge. This week they will receive only basic rations.** _

_**8.37am. Stiles is in the Diary Room, talking to Big Brother about the task.** _

Stiles: (perches on the edge of the Diary Room chair, wearing Speedos and a damp t-shirt, with a towel over his lap, his hair still wet, dripping over his shoulders) 

Stiles: What's weird is that we lost over a stupid quiz. We survived the whole hunter/werewolf thing - which continues to give Derek delusions of werewolfitude, by the way - we survived random paralysis, the Wolf Den and ice baths. And then we fail because Cora and Danny don't know mistletoe is poisonous. I mean, seriously? Ever heard of mistletoe pie? No. There's a reason you're supposed to kiss under it, not eat it. (savagely rubs his hair with towel)

Big Brother: Does the thought of basic rations worry you at all, Stiles?

Stiles: Me personally? No. I offered to help make the bread every day, because I do that at home sometimes for Dad and it's real cathartic, you know? Oh, and by the way? No, I will not be putting your fucking excuse for peanut butter on it. But I'm worried about Scott and Derek. Have you seen the number of calories they burn in a day? I swear, just looking that gorgeous costs Derek the equivalent of a dozen pizzas every twenty four hours. 

(pause)

Stiles: (gazes off into the distance, a little smile on his face)

Big Brother: Your replacement battery pack is in the hatch now, Stiles. Big Brother asks that you remember to remove your microphone and battery pack before entering the swimming pool in future.

Stiles: Cool. Thanks, Big-Bro. Sorry.

Big Brother: Have a good day, Stiles.

*

_**11.35 am. Some of the housemates are in the garden playing a game.**_

Volleyball with a ball made out of tinfoil is a lot harder than it looks. Stiles should, theoretically, be a passable volleyball player. He can run fast and his eyes are quick. He can spot gaps in the opponents' defence. However, the reality is that there seems to be a disconnect between Stiles and the ball, whereby he is incapable of actually making contact with it in any meaningful way. After his fifth dramatic, if ineffective, slide across the garden in pursuit of a very aerodynamically-challenged clump of foil he lies panting on the grass and waits for someone to rescue him.

Scott looms into view, stretching a hand down to him. "You okay, dude?"

Stiles lets Scott haul him to his feet, still out of breath. "Did we win yet?"

"Uh, no. Derek's team are beating the shit out of us."

"Ah well. What you gonna do?"

"Keep trying, man. Keep trying."

Stiles follows Scott back to the makeshift court. The corners and lines are marked out with socks, and the net is a washing line strung between the post of the gazebo and the pedestal water feature that sits, for some reason, in the flowerbed. 

Derek is, Stiles has discovered, very competitive. He, Cora and Isaac all have serious-sports-face, practically growling at Stiles, Scott and Danny. Allison and Lydia are supposedly cheering from the smoking area (in fact they're painting their toenails with glitter) and Peter is, as usual, watching proceedings from his customary perch on the spiral stairs leading up to the Sky Room.

Because Stiles is noticing all this, the ball hits him on the head and then plops sadly to the ground. He stares at it.

"Stiles," Danny groans. "Not again!"

Stiles hears Derek chuckling. Oh, he is going to pay for that. He is really going to pay.

Scott serves next, gets it long, only to be intercepted by Isaac. Stiles bounces on his feet, determined to be ready this time, running backwards when he sees the ball sailing over the net. But Scott beats him to it and gets a really good shot in. It's fast and high and the wind whips it away from Cora and towards a suddenly very noticeable gap in Derek's defence. Derek chases it, can't reach it; the ball falls to the ground and Stiles is cheering, pumping his fist in the air when he realises Derek hasn't stopped. Derek's sliding on wet grass and then he falls.

He falls, and Stiles can hear the crack as his head hits the tiles by the pool. Stiles feels sick, yells, is running, running so hard his chest hurts.

_~This is Big Brother. All housemates must…~_

Stiles doesn't hear, or care, what he's being told to do, he just falls to his knees at Derek's side. 

"Derek? Derek, are you OK?"

_~Housemates, medical support is on its way. All housemates must go inside immediately.~_

"Fuck off," Stiles mutters, and touches Derek's shoulder, just a tiny touch. He thinks Derek's eyelids flutter, but nothing more. 

"Stiles, is he okay?"

Stiles glances over his shoulder to see Scott standing there, white as a sheet.

"Banged his head," Stiles heard himself say. "He's unconscious."

_~Housemates, medical support is on its way. All housemates must go inside immediately.~_

Stiles realises his cheeks are wet with tears, and suddenly there's a woman kneeling opposite him, on the other side of Derek. She's wearing a green uniform and a high-vis shirt. Paramedic. She smiles kindly at him.

"It's okay," she says, in a very British accent. "We'll take good care of him. You'd best get inside and let us do our job."

"He hit his head," says Stiles.

The woman pats his hand, the one that's resting on Derek's bare shoulder. "We saw. Go on, go inside, there's a good boy."

Stiles doesn't remember getting up and going to the house. He just remembers leaving Derek, and how it went against every fibre of his being to do so.

*

_**12.16pm.** _

The living area is dark and claustrophobic with the shutters down, and Stiles feels twitchy, cooped-up. He's sitting on the sofa with Scott, who has an ice pack on his knee.

Turns out tin-foil volleyball is more dangerous than it looks.

Allison's on the other side of Scott, and Lydia's setting a tray of mugs on the table in front of them.

"Apparently Big Brother thought we should all have a cup of tea," she says. "This country is insane."

"I can't believe he's gone," Scott says.

"He's not gone, he's in the hospital," says Allison. "They'll take good care of him. It might be nothing. They don't take any chances, remember? That's all this is. They're being careful."

"He hit his head pretty hard," says Scott. "I heard it from the other side of the garden."

Stiles closed his eyes; he heard it too, he _kept_ hearing it. It was driving him mad, not knowing if Derek was okay. But there was nothing they could do, and he really didn't want to talk about it. 

"Probably a concussion," Lydia says. "Didn't see any blood."

"You were miles away," says Scott, and Stiles looks up sharply. Did Scott see blood? Was there blood? Oh God.

"I'm going to take a shower," says Allison. "Someone else can have my tea."

"I'll go ask for clean towels," says Lydia. "The ones in the bathroom all stink of fish guts after yesterday."

"Did you see-" Stiles says, as the girls leave.

"I don't know," says Scott, miserably. "I don't know. I shouldn't have hit it that hard. I should have known he would push to get it."

"It feels so weird to be here. I feel like I should be in a waiting room at the hospital. I know how to do that. I don't know how to wait here."

They sit there for half an hour in silence before the shutters finally rise to allow them access to the garden again.

It doesn't make Stiles feel any better when they do.

*

_**15:37 pm. Stiles is in the bedroom, talking to Lydia and Allison.** _

"Hey, it's supposed to be nominations day today," says Allison. "I guess they cancelled because of… what happened."

"Or maybe it's face-to-face during the live show," says Lydia.

Stiles has a sneaking suspicion that the producers must hate Lydia, because she has a knack of guessing their little twists way before they happen. 

"That's harsh," says Allison. "Hey, Stiles, where's Scott?"

Stiles frowns. "I haven't seen him for a while. He said he wanted to be alone. I think he blames himself for, you know. The Derek thing. He's an idiot that way."

Lydia stands up suddenly. "Oh God. Stiles, he said he was going to the Diary Room."

"Oh. Good?"

"No, no, no, not good. You know what Scott's like, he's on the verge of some kind of conspicuous-altruist self-blaming BPD." 

Stiles and Allison exchange confused looks. 

"He has a hero complex," says Lydia. "I think he's trying to leave because he thinks it's his fault Derek got hurt."

Stiles leaps up and runs for the Diary Room. His adrenalin's still fired up from Derek's accident, and all he can think is that he can't lose both his best friends in one day. Not like this. He sprints through the living area, vaulting the coffee table in the process, skids across the kitchen floor and charges up the stairs. The light's on red to show that the Diary Room's occupied, but he hits the button anyway. Not just once, but again and again and again.

_~This is Big Brother. Will Stiles stop hitting the Diary Room Button.~_

"Only if you let me in! Scott's in there, isn't he? Come on, please, I wanna talk to him! Please!"

_~Stiles. Please stand away from the Diary Room Door, and take a deep breath.~_

"Do as he says, Stiles," says Lydia, breathless from following him up the stairs. Allison's just behind her.

He steps back, and makes himself breathe. "See? I'm calm. Now, _please_. Please let me talk to Scott."

The colours on the entry button flash and turn green, and the door slides open.

Scott's standing there, in front of the big chair Stiles is becoming used to sprawling on, with a piece of paper in one hand, and his microphone and battery pack in the other. Stiles can see the Big Brother logo on the paper. It's an exit form.

"It's over," Scott says. "That stupid game was my idea and I pushed Derek way too hard. It's all my fault."

"No, Scott," says Allison. "It wasn't. Derek wasn't your fault. Come on, you're better than this. You won't quit. You're going all the way to the final."

Scott shakes his head. "Not any more." His voice sounds broken, defeated.

"Well then," says Stiles. "You'll have to take me with you."

Stiles steps into the room, and the door closes behind him.

*  
_**15.41 pm**_

Big Brother: Stiles, you have been allowed into the Diary Room with Scott's permission. Please, sit down, both of you.

(neither sits; they stand looking at each other)

Stiles: C'mon, Scott. 

Scott: Remember how we were when all this started, Stiles? We weren't popular. We were no-one. We didn't have crowds yelling our names every Friday. It's time I was no-one again. No-one at all."

Stiles: You're not no-one, Scott. You're someone. Since we met you've become my best friend. You're a brother to me. So if you walk out that door, I'm coming with you.

Scott: (looks helplessly at Stiles) Stiles-

Stiles: (steps closer, tears streaming down his face) What's it gonna be, huh? Are we leaving? Are we? 

Stiles: (reaches for the form in Scott's hand; Scott doesn't resist when he takes it from him; Stiles rips it into pieces and throws it in the air to fall around them like confetti)

Scott: (falls into Stiles' arms, sobbing)

Stiles: You're not going anywhere, okay buddy? Not until they chuck us out. You haven't done anything wrong. Not a thing.

Scott: I'm such a moron. I don't know what came over me. 

Stiles: Emotions are weird in here, buddy, you know that. It's okay.

Big Brother: Stiles, Scott, please take a seat in the Diary Room chair.

(Stiles sits, pulling Scott down with him)  
(Scott and Stiles hug, and when they're done they sit clasping hands)

Big Brother: Scott, how are you feeling?

Scott: (sniffs) Better. I'm sorry. 

Big Brother: Would you like some more time to consider your decision?

Scott: (looks at Stiles, who nods at him) No, I'm good, thanks. I'd like to stay, if that's okay.

Big Brother: Thank you, Scott. You are very welcome to remain in the Big Brother house. Is there anything Big Brother can do to help you feel better at this moment in time?

Scott: Can we stay here for a while?

Big Brother: Stiles, Scott, take all the time you need.

*

_**17:38 pm Big Brother has called the housemates to the sofas for an announcement.** _

Stiles instinctively looks straight ahead, at the gap on the wolf sofa, where Derek should be. He squeezes Scott's hand a little tighter, and Lydia's.

_~Housemates. This is Big Brother.~_

The housemates all look up at the ceiling, where the voice comes from. 

_~Earlier this afternoon, Derek was taken to hospital for medical investigations. I can now tell you that he has received treatment, and is expected to make a full recovery. However, he is to stay in hospital overnight, and therefore will not return to the house until tomorrow.~_

Relief explodes through Stiles and he's hanging on to Scott for dear life, crying snottily into his neck. It's ridiculous and way over the top, he knows it is, but he can't help it. Scott thumps him on the back in a manly kind of way. 

_~Today's nominations will take place over the course of this evening. Derek will make his nominations on his return to the house tomorrow.~_

"Phew," Lydia says. "Guess we can't do live face-to-face nominations if Derek's not here."

Stiles couldn't care less about nominations. Derek's okay, Scott didn't leave and Derek's coming back to the house. At last, he can breathe again.

*

_**20.15 pm. Nominations continue.**_

Big Brother: Please give the name of your first nomination, and explain your reasons for this nomination.

Stiles: Isaac. He's just… Isaac, you know? He's still sniffing around Allison. He's still wearing the ridiculous sweaters. He got Derek all pumped-up for the volleyball. I'm not saying anything's his fault, I just don't really trust the guy, you know? Especially with Allison.

Big Brother: Please give the name of your second nomination, and explain your reasons for this nomination.

Stiles: Danny. (pause) Yeah, I know, weird choice. But I have to pick someone. My thinking goes like this: he fucked up the task and got us put on basic rations, which is making people very, very cranky. And I'm pretty sure no-one else will nominate him, so I figure he should be safe. Fuck, even if he goes up, he'll be fine. Everybody loves Danny. So, yeah. Danny.

Big Brother: To confirm, the housemates you have nominated for eviction this week are: Isaac and Danny.

Stiles: Yep. Call me a bastard, I know you wanna. Sheesh, this gets harder every fucking week.

Big Brother: Thank you, Stiles. You are free to return to the house.

*

_**12.31 am. Most of the housemates have gone to bed. Stiles is talking to Scott about Derek.** _

Stiles is lying on his side, staring at an empty bed. 

"It's so weird, you know?" he says to Scott, who's spooning him, snug and warm. "That side of the room used to be full of Derek's pack, remember? Derek, Cora, Boyd, Isaac, Erica. Now it's all empty."

"Cora's only gone to get more toothpaste from the store room," says Scott. "And Isaac's right behind us."

"So not the point, dude."

"It's okay. Derek'll be back tomorrow."

Stiles can't quite let himself believe that until he sees it happen. "I miss him, Scott." He keeps his voice low, hoping the mics over the bed won't pick it up. "It's stupid. How can I miss him like this when I only met him a month ago and he's been gone less than twelve hours?"

"You're in love with him," says Scott, as if it was the most simple thing in the world.

"I am so _not_ in love with him," says Stiles.

"Whatever you say, buddy," says Scott. "Whatever you say."

*


	20. Week Five: Day Thirty Two

_**Day 32. 8.32 am. Stiles and Scott are in the kitchen, making bread.** _

Scott has flour on the end of his nose, and a smear of oil across his cheek. He's concentrating really, really hard. 

"You need to get into a rhythm with it," says Stiles, slapping his own slab of bread dough down on the counter. "Try this. Hold one end with your left hand. Push the other end away, use the heel of your other hand, like this, okay? Fold it back, turn it around, same again. Hold, push, fold, turn. Hold, push, fold, turn. Go on, give it a go."

Scott squared up to his dough, shoulders back, and took a deep breath. He anchored the bread as Stiles had shown him. "Okay, hold?"

"Push."

Scott shoves at the bread with his fist. Not exactly how Stiles showed him, but hey, it works. 

"Fold it back…. And turn. Yay! You've got it. Now do it faster."

Scott grins happily, and suddenly they're kneading dough in perfect synch.

"We need a rap to go with this," says Scott.

"Not everything in the world needs a rap, Scott."

_~This is Big Brother. Could Stiles please come to the Diary Room.~_

Stiles looks down at his floury hands. "Shit. This bread won't make itself you know, Big Bro!"

"Go on," Scott tosses him a towel. "I'll keep the show going here, dude. Maybe they got you some decent peanut butter."

"Ha! That I very much doubt, my friend. More likely I'm in trouble for something."

Stiles traipses off to the Diary Room, wiping his hands as he goes. He presses the button and steps inside without even looking first.

The door slides shut behind him, and Stiles realises he's not alone. There's someone sitting on the chair.

"Hi, Stiles," says Derek.

Stiles flings his arms around Derek's neck; Derek catches him, pulls him easily into his lap as if he weighed next to nothing. They kiss: Derek's mouth is warm and soft, his stubble is just the right side of rough, and God, it's Derek, Derek's _here_. He smells of hospitals, but Stiles really doesn't care about that one bit.

Big Brother: Hello, Stiles. Big Brother thought you and Derek might like a private reunion before you rejoin your fellow housemates.

Derel: I missed you an insane amount.

Stiles: (grinning) Really? I hardly missed you at all.

Derek: Liar.

Stiles: (nuzzles into Derek's neck) Never do that to me again, okay?

Derek: Never.

Derek: (kisses Stiles, who responds enthusiastically)

Stiles: (wriggles his way into Derek's lap, sliding his hands underneath Derek's shirt)

Derek: God, Stiles, you feel so good.

Derek and Stiles: (kiss passionately, Stiles writhing in Derek's lap)

Big Brother: Thank you, Derek and Stiles. You may now return to the house.

Stiles: Were you always this hot? I know you were hot but man, seriously, if you kiss me like that again I'll come in my-

Big Brother: Derek and Stiles. Please leave the diary room immediately.

Stiles: You have no sense of romance, Big Bro.

Big Brother: Big Brother is sure that Derek's other housemates are eager to welcome him back, too.

Stiles: Well, I suppose I have to share. Come on, big guy. (gets up, pulling Derek after him)

Derek: Thank you, Big Brother. (winks at camera)

Big Brother: Thank you, Stiles and Derek. Have a good day.

*

**_3.45 pm. Big Brother is about to announce the results of this week's nominations. The housemates do not know that there will be an additional twist._ **

"I bet there's a twist," says Lydia. 

"I hope not," says Scott. "We've had too much drama around here lately."

"Yeah," says Isaac. "Remember the days when we used to lie around by the pool all day, and nobody got evicted? Those were good times."

_~Housemates. The results of this week's nominations are as follows. In alphabetical order, the housemates who will face the public vote this week are:….~_

Stiles counts in his head. It's usually seven seconds, ten seconds max. 

\- Three, four, five, six, seven….

_~Allison. And…~_

Shit. 

\- Five, six, seven, eight….

_~Cora. And…~_

Shit shit shit shit shit.

\- Seven, eight, nine….

_~Isaac.~_

Oh.

_~And.~_

Stiles blinks, runs through the alphabet in his head. That means it has to be Scott or-

_~Stiles.~_

Stiles' blood runs cold. He gazes helplessly at Derek, who's putting a brave smile on his face. Stiles hates that smile. He wants Derek to protest that anyone who nominated Stiles is mad, and will face his eternal wrath. 

Well, maybe not exactly that. But still, a bit of a pout and a menacing eyebrow might not go amiss.

Then Derek gets up and suddenly Stiles is in his arms, being fiercely and, if he's not mistaken, protectively hugged. Cora gets pulled into it, then Scott. When they all let go, Stiles notices Peter, sitting at the end of the wolf-sofa, arms folded across his chest. 

He looks ridiculously smug.

_~Housemates. That's not the end of this week's nominations process.~_

"Oh fuck, here we go," says Stiles.

"Told you," says Lydia.

_~Housemates, take your seats on the sofas. Scott, please collect the task pack from the hatch in the store room.~_

Scott fetches the black folder, and places it on the table. 

_~Scott, open the folder. Inside you will find a selection of envelopes. Please spread them out on the table.~_

There are two sets of envelopes: four gold ones and four red ones. Stiles does not like the look of this at all.

_~Housemates. These envelopes offer the chance of redemption for nominated housemates. But this chance does not come without risk. The gold envelopes contain the names of the nominated housemates. The red ones contain different fates. Fates include the chance to be saved from nomination, but this is one of four possible options, and others can result in drastic consequences for you or your housemates. Each nominated housemate now has a choice to make. You can take a chance with fate, or you can choose not to play. If you choose not to play your nomination will stand as is. You are not allowed to discuss this decision with your fellow-housemates.~_

Stiles thinks he's made up his mind, but Lydia catches his eye, and shakes her head. Lydia's a genius. Lydia knows math Stiles is pretty sure hasn't been invented yet. This task is about probability, and probability is math. Plus, she has a real talent for guessing what Big Brother's up to. 

Stiles would trust Lydia with his life.

"Count me out," he says. "I'll trust the public."

"Me too," says Allison. 

Cora shrugs.

"I'll play," says Isaac.

_~To confirm. Allison and Stiles have chosen not to play. Isaac will play. Could Cora please say whether or not she wishes to take a chance with fate?~_

Cora looks at Derek, who is clearly fighting hard not to say anything. His eyebrows let slip something that might be 'no'. Stiles hopes it's no.

"No," says Cora. "I'll leave it to the public vote."

_~The only housemate who will take a chance with fate is Isaac. Isaac, please select a fate by choosing one of the red envelopes.~_

Isaac's hand trembles a little as he takes an envelope. 

_~Isaac, please open the envelope and read aloud what it says on the card inside.~_

He opens it slowly, and pulls out the card. His looks instantly crestfallen, and Stiles is surprised by how sorry he feels for him.

"Swap," says Isaac. "Fuck. I guess that means I'm not saved, right?"

_~Isaac. Please select one of the nominated housemates by choosing a gold envelope.~_

Isaac does as he's told, with a frown on his face. Stiles has a nasty feeling that he knows what's coming.

"It's not your own fate," he mutters under his breath. "One in four chance. That means-"

"Yeah," says Lydia. "Not good odds."

Isaac opens the gold envelope. "Cora."

"Oh, shit," says Stiles.

_~Housemates. Isaac has changed fate. Instead of facing the public vote this week, Cora will be swapped for a new housemate. Cora, please prepare to leave the house via the Diary Room.~_

There's uproar, everyone directing their anger at Big Brother, except for Isaac, who is curled on the sofa around a cushion, looking as though his world has ended. Derek's hugging Cora. Allison, Scott and Lydia are discussing a thousand reasons why Big Brother can't be allowed to do this. 

"Hey, guys, stop it. It's okay," says Cora. They all shut up and stare at her.

"What?" says Scott.

"It's okay," she repeats. "I love this show, and this just another part of it. I've had a really good time. I'm pretty sure I'd be out on Friday anyway. How cool is this, to go as part of a big twist, right?"

"There's no crowd," says Allison. "No live eviction show… Cora, I'm so sorry."

"No," says Isaac, "I'm sorry. I really am."

"Seriously, the whole idea of all that crowd stuff was freaking me out. I'm pretty sure I'd have got booed anyway, after the fight with Erica. I'm okay, guys, really. I'm okay."

_~Cora. You have been swapped. Please leave the Big Brother house.~_

At the bottom of the stairs Cora hugs Stiles really hard, and whispers in his ear. "Look after him, Stiles. Please?"

He hugs her back in reply.

She runs up the stairs, waves, slips through the Diary Room door - and she's gone.

They all stand there, stunned. Stiles takes Derek's hand in his, and squeezes.

Cora's picture turns grey, and the word 'swapped' appears underneath it.

_~Will one housemate please come to the Store Room to collect your swap.~_

"God, they don't waste any time, do they?" says Lydia. "I'll go."

The rest of them hang around by the stairs, shocked and lost, and watch. She emerges from the store room a moment later, leading out by the hand not one, but two tall, broad-shouldered guys. 

"Look," Lydia says. "We got two for the price of one."

They're Twins.

*

_**4.37 pm. It's thirty minutes since Cora was swapped for the Twins, Aiden and Ethan. The Twins will be counted as one housemate, and they are eligible to win the £100,000 prize money if they make it to the final and win the public vote. Most of the housemates are discussing recent events in the living room. Stiles is alone in the bedroom.** _

Stiles paces rapidly back and forth in front of the big windows that overlook the garden. He can't think. He probably needs to calm down, but he can't. He can hear people shouting in the living area and it makes him want to scream. Cora's gone. They've got a couple of muscle-bound fuckheads in her place. Isaac's sobbing in the alcove under the stairs, Lydia's screaming at everyone, and Derek ran off to the Sky Room with Peter - Peter, for fuck's sake! - and won't let anyone else near him. Not even Stiles.

It all goes quiet. 

Stiles takes a breath. It stays quiet. 

Danny sticks his head around the door. 

"Hey, Stiles."

"Yeah?"

"Scott's called a meeting. He wants everyone to come and sit on the sofas."

"Scott?"

"Yes. He managed to get them all to calm down a bit. Are you coming or not?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'll be right there."

In the living area, the Twins are sitting on the wolf side with Lydia, and Isaac's sitting between Scott and Allison on the opposite sofa. Danny joins Lydia. It feels all wrong. It feels like battle lines. 

"What about Derek?" Stiles says.

"He's gone to the Diary Room," says Allison. Stiles glances out of the window; Peter's on his usual perch on the Sky Room stairs. Best place for him.

"Okay," says Scott. "Everyone needs to stay calm. It's not going to help if this gets physical, okay? One eviction is enough for one day."

"More than enough," says Isaac.

"It's not our fault," says one of the Twins. 

"It's nobody's fault," says Allison. "It was random."

"It was a calculated risk," says Stiles. 

Everybody looks at him.

"Technically," says Lydia. "But that doesn't matter. It's done now. We can't take it back."

"Exactly," says Scott. "It's not Aiden and Ethan's fault that they came in this way. We should make them welcome, like we would any new housemate."

"Why?" says Isaac. "We've been here for thirty two days. How come they can join now and still stand a chance of winning?"

"He has a point," says Allison. 

"We don't make the rules," says Scott. "And it's not their fault, any more than it was Isaac's fault that Cora got evicted."

Stiles bites his lip, because it was totally Isaac's fault that Cora got evicted. But he knows what Scott's trying to do, and he is finding his friend's new-found leadership qualities rather attractive. He's proud of Scott. Very proud. 

"We should draw a line," says Danny. "Start fresh from here. No dragging up the past, no blaming anyone for anything that's been done up to this point."

"Does that apply to Peter?" asks Stiles. "Because that guy is shady as hell and I think forgetting that would be a serious mistake."

"It applies to everyone," says Scott. "Clean slate. Okay?"

Everyone else approves, so Stiles grudgingly agrees. It's not wholehearted, because it's not like he can forget that he hates Peter. He's not going to start trusting him just because Scott says so. But he can keep quiet about it for a bit.

"Welcome to the Big Brother house, Aiden and Ethan," says Scott. 

Stiles doesn't trust them, either, but he shakes hands with them and smiles just the same. 

He figures Scott deserves it.

*

_**9.37pm. Big Brother has given the housemates refreshments to welcome Aiden and Ethan to the house.** _

Derek's sitting on the wolf sofa and Stiles is sprawled in his lap, licking chocolate ice cream off a spoon. It's heavenly. 

"This would taste good any time," Stiles says. "But after two days of fucking chick peas and rice, man. I swear it's the best ice cream I ever tasted."

"Yeah," says Derek. "Oh, wait." 

He whips Stiles' t-shirt up before Stiles can protest, and drops a dollop of ice cream right on his belly button. Stiles squeals and Derek bends over to lick him clean. His tongue's soft and wet and ticklish, and Derek works it thoroughly over Stiles' skin, slurping up every last bit of ice cream. 

Then he pulls Stiles' t-shirt down again. Stiles whimpers.

"Now," says Derek. " _That_ was the best ice cream I ever tasted."

Stiles pulls himself together enough to scrape the last of his ice cream out of the bottom of the bowl. He's chasing a stubborn choc chip up the side when he realises Derek's gone quiet and still. Stiles follows the line of Derek's gaze and sees Isaac sitting outside in the rain, all by himself. He's on the bench by the pool, not even trying to take shelter.

"You okay, baby?" says Stiles. 

Derek's eyebrows make it clear that Derek is surprised and not entirely gratified to be called 'baby'. Stiles tucks that little bit of information away for future use and adds, "Isaac's taking it hard."

"It wasn't his fault." There's something in Derek's voice, a catch, like he's trying to convince himself more than anyone else. 

"Still sucks," says Stiles.

"Yeah. Yeah, it does. She wanted this so much, you know? I'll never forget the day we got the call to say we were through the first stage auditions. I swear, I've never seen her so happy. It should be her sitting here, not me."

"You should know that if that was the case, I would not be letting her lick ice cream off my stomach."

Derek's dimples make a brief appearance.

"I would probably be sobbing in the Diary Room making a complete dick of myself, in fact."

"Don't do that." Derek strokes Stiles' arm in a very tender sort of way. "When I go, you have to just enjoy the fuck out of the rest of it for the both of us. Promise me?"

Stiles frowns. "What makes you think you'd go first? I'm way more annoying and also, as it happens, I am nominated this week."

"Oh shit, I'd forgotten." Derek looks truly horrified. "You won't go, though. You can't."

"Steady on, man. We don't know, do we? But the way I see it, people will probably feel sorry for Isaac, and Allison's lovely, so that just leaves… well. Whatever. Pact works both ways, okay? When I go, you have to rock it big time without me. And remember that's what Cora wants you to do, too."

Derek nods, once. He looks down, to where he's still stroking Stiles' arm. 

"And whatever happens," Stiles says, "I'll see you on the outside. Okay?"

"I'd like that."

Stiles lifts Derek's hand to his lips and kisses his palm. "Good."

"I really miss Cora," Derek says.

"I know, big guy," says Stiles, sliding an arm around his shoulders. "I know."

*

_**1.37am. Most of the housemates are asleep. Stiles and Scott are talking about Cora.** _

"Your hair's still wet, man." Scott fidgets, trying to avoid the damp patch on the pillow.

"Sorry. I gave it a good rub." Stiles smirked.

"That reminds me, what are you still doing here?"

"What?"

"Derek's all on his own in that big bed without Cora. I'd have thought you'd have gone to keep him company by now."

Stiles has thought about it. He'd be lying if he said otherwise. "Bros before hos, man."

Scott chuckles. "I'm so going to tell Derek you called him a ho."

"Not if you want to keep your balls intact, you won't."

"Aw, but can you imagine his face?"

"Yes. Which is why you will never repeat it. On pain of death."

"Why aren't you sleeping with him, though? Really?"

Stiles tucks his hand under his cheek, watching Derek, who's lying on his back, cuddling Cora's pillow to his chest. "I'm already dying of sexual frustration. Can you imagine how much worse it would be if I actually shared a bed with him?"

Scott snorts, obviously not fooled. But Stiles struggles to say the truth out loud. It sounds silly. He can't quite manage to form the words until a few minutes later, when he's mostly sure Scott is asleep.

"I want to save something that's just for us," he whispers. "I want it to be outside, the first time I actually sleep in the same bed as him. I have this whole fantasy about it. We've had dinner, and sex in the shower because we couldn't wait, and then we cuddle up in his actual, real bed and go to sleep. We wake up together in the morning, and he'll cook me bacon. No cameras. I want it to be private. Special."

Scott's arm tightens around Stiles' middle, just a little. 

*


	21. Week Five: Day Thirty Five

_**Day Thirty Five. Tonight is eviction night, and one of the housemates is due to leave the Big Brother House - unless the public have chosen Big Brother's Surprising Twist as their preferred option!** _

_**Meanwhile the Twins have been making friends with their fellow housemates.** _

_**12.38pm Most of the housemates are in the garden.** _

Stiles and Scott are in the pool playing their latest game, which is duck racing. Two plastic ducks from the bathroom are lined up by the steps, and Scott and Stiles are equipped with a spatula each. 

"Ready?" says Stiles, brandishing his spatula.

"Ready," Scott replies.

"On a count of three."

"You know, it would be fairer if someone else started us."

"Yeah, good point. Hey, Derek!"

Derek's sitting in the gazebo with Peter, which is another very good reason to get him to come and help out. Derek says Peter's harmless. Which just goes to show how much Derek knows.

"We need a starter!" yells Scott.

Derek comes over and squats down by the pool. 

"Count to three," says Stiles.

Derek gives him one of his 'Really, Stiles?' looks, which tends to happen when Stiles is telling him stuff he already knows. Stiles rolls his shoulders and readies his spatula.

Derek starts the countdown. "Three, two, one, go!"

Scott and Stiles paddle furiously with their spatulas. The rules decree that they can't touch the ducks at all, so the only way they can propel and steer them is by moving the water around them. They've been practising all morning. Stiles has developed a pretty good propulsion technique, but his steering is a bit off. Scott, unfortunately, appears to have the whole package. 

The pool seems a lot longer than he'd thought, now the race has started. Plastic ducks don't move fast, however rapidly you paddle with your kitchen implement.

Derek saunters very slowly to the other end of the pool, where he sits cross legged and looks at an invisible watch on his wrist. He yawns.

Stiles gets a good paddling rhythm going, but unfortunately he's looking at Derek while he does it, and he accidentally smacks the duck, so hard that it's pitched out of the water. It goes sailing across the grass to land at Allison's feet. She's putting laundry on the makeshift line they've set up across the garden where the volleyball net used to go. 

"Hey, Stiles," she says, picking up the unfortunate duck. "Keep control of your rubber ducky."

She tosses it back; it bounces off the side of Stiles' head and plops into the water where it bobs sadly, upside-down.

"Fuck" says Stiles. "You win, dude."

"Nah, let's start again," says Scott. "Winning by default is no fun."

"Best of three, then," says Stiles.

_~This is Big Brother. Will Scott please come to the Diary Room.~_

"Don't start without me, man." Scott pulls himself out of the pool, water streaming from his body and highlighting the muscles he's been developing over the past few weeks. Derek's 'werewolf'-based exercise regime is highly effective. 

"I'll make sure he doesn't cheat, Scott," yells Derek, from the other end of the pool.

"Oh, will you now?" says Stiles, as Scott bounds off towards the house. "And what makes you think I'd even try to cheat on my best buddy, huh?"

Derek smirks at him, and Stiles can't let him get away with that, so he throws himself at the water and strikes out for the end of the pool. He gets there to find Derek taking his pants off, which throws him somewhat. Derek's wearing speedos underneath but they don't hide much, and suddenly it's all Stiles can do to tread water and breathe. His brain is completely inaccessible, except for the part that keeps telling him, repeatedly and vehemently, that he needs to get his hands, mouth and other parts of himself on Derek's dick as soon as possible. Preferably now. Right now.

"You alright?" says Derek. "You glazed over."

"Yeah. Just thinking."

"About…?"

"Ducks." Stiles grins lopsidedly at Derek, who responds by sliding gracefully into the water. "Hello."

"Hello." 

Derek moves and the next thing Stiles knows he's pressed against the side of the pool, and Derek's body is warm and mostly naked, and Derek's kissing him, and Derek's hands are in his hair and it's easy, it's just so fucking easy for Stiles to wrap his legs around Derek's hips and wrap his arms around Derek's neck and let himself dissolve into warm, happy pleasure. Derek kisses with his whole body, rolling up into Stiles as their tongues meet, sweet and filthy. 

"I hate to interrupt." Peter's voice is smooth and slick, like oil. Nasty, black oil that ruins oceans. "But there appears to be some kind of altercation going on in the living area."

Stiles swears he can hear Derek growl. Derek rests his forehead on Stiles' shoulder. He's panting a bit.

"What's it got to do with us?" says Stiles.

"Oh, it's nothing to do with you. But Scott's in the Diary Room and I'd say there's about ten seconds before Isaac lays one on Ethan. I just thought you might like to know."

"Oh shit," says Stiles.

Derek's already half way out of the pool.

*

_**1:05pm. Isaac and Ethan have been arguing for fifteen minutes.** _

Danny's trying to hold Ethan back, and Allison's put herself in front of Isaac, but it isn't stopping the shouting, or the threats of violence. Lydia and Aiden are nowhere to be seen. Ethan and Isaac are stupidly loud, aggression live in the air like electricity in a thunder storm. As he follows Derek into the house, Scott emerges from the Diary Room.

"Isaac! Stop!" Scott yells, rushing down the stairs.

Surprisingly, Isaac actually does stop, and lets Allison pull him back. 

Derek helps Danny with Ethan, each of them taking one arm and dragging him away. 

"You're still here," says Isaac to Scott. "You haven't left."

"Of course I'm still here. They called me in to answer a questionnaire. I think we all have to do it today. What made you think I'd left?"

Isaac frowns. He glances out into the garden and Stiles follows his gaze. Peter's sitting on the spiral steps as usual. He's saying something, holding his personal mic between thumb and forefinger and talking directly into it. 

"Ethan said things about you," Isaac says, but he doesn't sound at all certain any more. "About you being weak."

"I said he wasn't ruthless enough to win," says Ethan. "You're forgetting the golden rule, Isaac. This isn't a holiday. It's a gameshow. Scott's not your friend, he's your competition."

Ethan's got a smirk on his face and Isaac's eyes narrow. 

"Don't be a dick, Ethan," says Derek. "There's no need to get him all riled up again."

Ethan shrugs. "No skin off my nose if he wants to get himself ejected." 

"That's enough," says Scott. "Both of you, stop. You need to cool off."

"He's right," says Allison. "Come on, Isaac. Come with me. We'll go sit in the Diary Room for a bit, okay?"

"And we'll go take a walk round the garden," Derek tells Ethan. 

"It's okay," says Danny, taking Ethan's hand in his. "I've got this covered, Come on, Ethan."

Ethan threads his fingers with Danny's, and lets Danny lead him outside. 

Stiles' shoulders lower a bit and he takes a deep breath. Isaac and Allison head up the stairs, and Derek gives Scott a slap on the back.

"You handled that really well," he says.

Scott beams ear to ear.

*

_**3.35 pm. Stiles is in the Diary Room answering some questions.** _

Big Brother: To confirm, your happiest school day was when you graduated from High School.

Stiles: Yeah. I know it's a bit lame but my Dad was so happy, you know? I think sometimes he doubted whether I'd graduate at all. But I did, and I won a prize for English, which was my mom's thing. She could've been a writer, Dad says. 

Big Brother: Are you alright, Stiles?

Stiles: (rubs his eyes) Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Got any more questions for me there, Big Bro?

Big Brother: What's your biggest fear about leaving the house?

Stiles: God, I don't know. My Dad not being proud of me. Everybody hating me, I guess. People booing me when I go out. Or, I guess I'm a bit afraid of the Derek thing.

Big Brother: What would you be afraid of concerning Derek, when you leave the house?

Stiles: That he'll change his mind. Won't want to be with me. Shit, Big Bro, how did this even happen? It was the last thing I expected, when I came in here. Never thought I'd meet someone. I was gonna hang out with new people, do stupid stuff, have fun, go home and start college. Instead I got… well, Derek. But not just Derek. I've got Scott, and Lydia and Allison. I've got actual friends who don't think I'm weird and irritating. Well, if they do they hide it really well. But it's different in here. It's like it's own little universe. What if I get out and everyone changes? What if we never see each other again?

Big Brother: Do you think that's likely, Stiles?

Stiles: I've seen the reunion shows. I know that most people don't keep in touch, even people who got really close in the house. You know what's strange about all this? I've been here thirty five days. Just over a month. And I can't really remember the outside world any more. It's like a different dimension, and I can't imagine Derek in that dimension at all. We grew up practically in the same town, and never met until we came thousands of miles away. Who knows what'll happen when we go back?"

Big Brother: Have you talked about this with Derek, or Scott?

Stiles: Nah, not in so many words. I guess everyone feels the same, though. Cora said a really wise thing a couple weeks back. She said there's no point worrying about when you're going to leave or what's happening on the outside. You just have to take each day here and enjoy the fuck out of it. So that's what I'm doing. For as long as I'm here, whether I go tonight or I'm here to the final. 

Big Brother: Big Brother thinks that was very wise advice.

Stiles: Too right. (sighs) I miss Cora, Big Bro. 

Big Brother: Do you think she'll approve of the way you're looking after Derek for her?

Stiles: (grins slyly at the camera) I think Derek does.

Big Brother: That's all the questions for now. Thank you, Stiles, you may leave the Diary Room.

*

_**9.15 pm. The Housemates are gathered on the sofas.** _

_~Big Brother House, this is Emma. Allison. Isaac. Stiles. The viewers have spoken, your fate is sealed.~_

Stiles holds on tight to Scott's hand. All day he's been refusing to admit the truth that now comes crashing around his ears: he's almost certainly going home. People won't want to evict Isaac, because he does all the big, dramatic stuff, and he's shaping up for some great conflict with the Twins. They won't want to evict Allison because she's brave and strong and awesome. But who wants to watch Stiles? Why would anyone be remotely interested? He's not a hero. He's doesn't have passionate meltdowns. He's not constantly gossiping and scheming. 

He dare not look at Derek. He stares at the floor, jiggling his leg and digging his fingers into Scott's palm.

_~However.~_

"Oh for the love of…" Stiles mutters under his breath. Scott leans in, his shoulder a welcome, solid warmth against Stiles'. 

_~This week the public have been given another option. Scott. Stand up, please.~_

Stiles goes cold all over. They can't evict Scott. Why would anyone do that? What?

_~Instead of voting out a housemate straight away, the public has chosen to give you a challenge. If you wish, you may sacrifice yourself-~_

"No!" yells Stiles, leaping to his feet, still holding on to Scott's hand for dear life. "No, Scott, don't do it!"

_~- and take the place of the nominated housemate who received the most votes. If you choose not to make the sacrifice, however, whichever of the nominated housemates has the most votes will leave the house tonight. There is no safe house, no further twist; they would be permanently evicted. You have ninety seconds to make your decision.~_

"You can't," says Allison. "Scott, no. Don't do this."

"She's right," says Isaac. "It's not fair."

"Scott, listen to them," says Stiles. "We all got ourselves psyched up, we're all ready to go, right guys?" Allison and Isaac nod in agreement. "You have to stay. You could win this. Seriously, you could."

"It's okay," says Scott. "I know what I'm doing."

Allison's biting her lip and Isaac looks horrified. 

Scott takes a step forwards, and Stiles' hand slips from his. 

"I've made up my mind," he says.

_~Scott. Are you willing to sacrifice yourself for your housemates?~_

"Yes," says Scott. "I am. All of them deserve to be here. Take me instead."

The noise is terrific, and Stiles can hear his own pulse in his ears, can barely see Scott through his tears as he smacks his arm, hard, harder than he should have, probably, but Scott just folds hugs him and whispers in his ear, "Win this for me, buddy, okay?"

"You can't go," wails Stiles. "I'll make them take me instead. You're too noble for your own fucking good."

"It's okay, dude. Look out for everyone. Have fun with Derek."

_~Will all housemates except for Scott please sit back on the sofas immediately.~_

Stiles and the others sink back in shocked silence. 

_~Scott.~_

Stiles closes his eyes, waiting for the voice of Big Brother to tell Scott to leave.

_~You have stated that you are willing to sacrifice yourself for your fellow-housemates. However.~_

Oh. "Maybe they're going to send us all out with him?"

_~The task the public set you was a test of your strength of character. As you passed with flying colours, you will not be asked to leave the Big Brother house tonight. There will be no eviction.~_

Stiles is absolutely still, not quite able to believe his ears. 

"So which one of us is going?" says Isaac.

"All of us?" says Allison.

_~Housemates, there will be no eviction tonight. Thanks to Scott, you are all saved.~_

Stiles squeals, jumps up to hi-five Scott, only to be knocked off his feet by Derek, who's jumped over the table to take Stiles very firmly in his arms. Stiles clings on, not sure whether to laugh or cry.

_~Furthermore, I can reveal that by passing the test and proving his strength of character, Scott is now the True Alpha of the house, and has earned himself immunity from next week's nominations. Congratulations, Scott.~_

"Thank you, Emma!" 

The cheers of the real audience outside are replaced with the recorded version and everyone hugs each other, except the Twins. They stand to one side, possibly out of respect that they can't possibly know what any of this feels like, not after just a few days. Or maybe they're plotting something. It's hard to tell.

Stiles thumps Scott on the arm again, not quite so hard this time. "Scott, don't you ever, ever do that again, d'you hear me?"

But Scott just shrugs at him. Because this is who he is, and Stiles loves him for it as much as it drives him insane with worry. It makes Stiles want to protect him. Watch out for him.

_~Housemates may now collect refreshments from the storage room.~_

"We always get pizza and Prosecco on eviction night," Danny tells the Twins. 

"It was a live show," says Allison. "That's what I don't get. How could they not have an eviction? It was real, you could hear them yelling."

"Yeah, 'get the Twins out'," says Ethan, helping him self to a slice of pizza from the box Scott passes to him.

"It's not your fault," says Danny. "It's just because you're new."

"But what do they do now, if it's live, and there's no-one for the audience to watch, no-one to interview?" says Allison. 

"Cora," says Lydia, pouring Prosecco neatly into glasses, without spilling a single drop. "They'll be interviewing Cora."

"That would be pretty awesome," says Isaac. 

"Let's do a toast to her," says Scott. "We never got to do it when she left."

They all gather round and Lydia distributes glasses of fizz.

"To Cora," Scott says, raising his glass. They all follow his lead.

"To Cora!" 

There's a lot of clinking, and then Stiles pours his glassful down his throat in one cool, refreshing gulp of relief. Lydia fills it right back up again, and he loves her so much that Derek should maybe be a little bit jealous.

"To Scott," says Derek. "Our True Alpha."

"I'll drink to that," says Stiles.

*


	22. Week Six: Day Thirty Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Big Brother's feeling evil.

_**Day Thirty Eight. 9.56 am. Some of the housemates are speculating about this week's shopping task.** _

Stiles sprawls on his belly across his bed, fiddling with a corner of the comforter. He's all tangled up in a pile with Derek and Scott, which is surprisingly comfortable. A burst of happiness makes Stiles smile into his pillow. 

"I hope it's something physical," says Scott. "I could really use a run."

"I'd kill for an hour with some weights," says Derek.

"You're both insane," says Stiles. "I vote for some kind of baking task. I'm getting quite good at bread."

"You are," says Derek. "I liked the thing you did yesterday with the sun-dried tomatoes." 

"They'd twist it into something stupid, though," says Stiles. "They'd probably get me to make bagels for you to work out with or something."

"How heavy can you make them?" Derek asks.

Stiles prods at Derek's bicep. "Not heavy enough, evidently. God, what're they made of, lead?"

"So long as we can win I'm happy with anything," says Scott.

"You really shouldn't say things like that, dude," says Stiles.

_~Would Stiles please come to the Diary Room.~_

"See? Told ya," says Stiles.

*  
 _ **10.17 am. Stiles has been called to the Diary Room.**_

Big Brother: Stiles.

Stiles: Yo, Big Girl-Bro.

Big Brother: Big Brother would like to take control of you.

Stiles: You pretty much have, to be honest. I'm very well-trained. Witness my speed in rushing here just now, for example. 

Big Brother: Stiles, Big Brother had to call you four times before you came to the Diary Room. It took nineteen minutes.

Stiles: You're not taking account of the Derek Factor. It's not a matter of willingness on my part. It's a matter of the inverse force of his whole… Derekness pulling me in the opposite direction. 

Big Brother: Stiles, are you saying you couldn't come to the Diary Room because it was too difficult to tear yourself away from Derek?

Stiles: (winks at the camera) Glad you understand, Big Bro.

Big Brother: Big Brother is glad you managed to resist Derek's magnetism sufficiently to get here. Eventually.

Stiles: Is that sarcasm? I'm sure it is. I'd recognise it anywhere. 

Big Brother: Stiles. Big Brother has a task for you. 

Stiles: Right. Gotcha. Fire away. Only, no concrete bagels, please.

Big Brother: The task does not involve concrete bagels. The task requires you to let Big Brother take over your mind.

Stiles: (shifts nervously in chair, frowns) Are you sure? It's pretty weird in here to start with, you know.

Big Brother: Big Brother is feeling evil, Stiles, and requires a housemate to carry out devilish deeds on his behalf. 

Stiles: (leaning forwards) Devilish deeds, you say?

Big Brother: If you perform all the mischief Big Brother requires, the house will be rewarded with a luxury shopping budget.

Stiles: And if I don't?

Big Brother: The house will be on basic rations for the next week.

Stiles: So, you want me to play tricks on people?

Big Brother: Do you agree, Stiles?

Stiles: Do I have any choice?

(pause)

Big Brother: If you refuse, the house will not receive a luxury shopping budget.

Stiles: (sighs) Okay, then. Sign me up.

*

_**4.56pm. Stiles has been preparing Big Brother's latest trick in the shower.**_

It's been a busy day. He's hidden various people's possessions in unlikely places. He put plastic wrap on all the toilets. He injected Danny's soap with food colouring. He swapped the salt for sugar in the kitchen, and he filled his and Scott's drawers with polystyrene balls. 

He's enjoying every minute. Stiles is no stranger to practical jokes. He's improved several of Big Brother's ideas, and he has a few suggestions to make if he has to do this again tomorrow.

Stiles puts the unscrewed shower head carefully to one side, and slots stock cubes into the handy little gaps around the water outlet. Then he squirts delicious tomato ketchup around the jets, and screws the head back on. 

The next person to use the shower will get covered in ketchup and cold gravy. Genius.

So far, nobody has a clue it's him. That's the hardest part of the task, but Stiles has a devious streak that he's happy to put to good use.

Stiles gives the camera a thumbs-up and creeps from the bathroom to the bedroom.

"Hey, Stiles!" Scott is standing by the windows, looking out at the garden. "Did you see what happened to the pool?"

"No," says Stiles, all innocence. "What?"

He joins Scott and tries to keep a straight face. The pool is full of pink foam, whipped by the breeze into little clouds that drift over the grass. Some of it has landed on top of the gazebo, looking like pink snow.

"Wow," says Stiles. He's rather impressed. He didn't put that much of the stuff in the pool. Big Brother clearly knows his detergents. The food colouring was Stiles' idea, though. There aren't many tricks that can't be improved with food colouring.

"Is this the task, d'you think?" says Scott. "Maybe they'll make us work out who's doing all this?"

"Any ideas?" says Stiles, as casually as possible.

"No. Well, maybe the Twins."

"Or Peter."

"Yeah. Or Peter."

Stiles has to turn his head away for a second to smile.

*

_**5.05 pm. Derek and Stiles are in the living area, having a cuddle.** _

Derek is wearing a very soft shirt. It's a wine-red colour that makes his skin glow. It feels amazing as Stiles bunches it in his fingers, tugging it up so he can get a hand underneath to touch Derek's skin as they sprawl on the wolf-sofa.

"That tickles," says Derek, but he doesn't stop him. He just kisses him, which is outright encouragement in Stiles' book. 

"You two are disgusting," says Peter, who has been looming in the kitchen. Stiles waves him off without breaking the kiss, and is gratified to hear his footsteps disappearing in the direction of the garden. 

"We should probably stop," murmurs Derek. "Don't want to upset anyone."

"Stop and you'll upset me," says Stiles, and hooks his fingers into the waistband of Derek's jeans. Derek growls deep in his throat and the kissing suddenly gets really filthy. 

There's a scream from the bathroom.

"Lydia?" says Derek.

"Lydia," says Stiles. They leap up and run to the bathroom, where they find Lydia standing in front of the shower, completely naked, covered in blackish-brown gunge streaked with red. 

"Oh shit," says Stiles. Somehow he hadn't meant for it to be Lydia. Of all people, not Lydia. 

"Isn't anyone going to pass me a towel?" Lydia's voice is shaking, perhaps with shock and certainly with anger. Stiles goes for a towel, trying not to look and failing terribly, which means he trips up over the towel and lands in an ungainly heap at Derek's feet. Scott, Allison and Isaac arrive just in time to witness the scene.

Derek snatches the towel from him and wraps Lydia in it. 

"Lydia, are you hurt?" says Scott, all wrinkly-forehead concern.

"I'm fine," says Lydia, crossly. "Someone put ketchup and gravy in the shower."

"Shit," says Scott.

"Okay, show's over." Allison quickly takes charge, turning the taps on to run Lydia a bath. She shoos them away, and Stiles traipses back into the living area with Derek. 

"I wasn't looking," Stiles says. 

"You absolutely were looking," says Derek. "It's okay. Just make sure you apologise to Lydia later."

Stiles has a feeling he'll be apologising to Lydia for a very long time.

*

**_8.45pm Big Brother has gathered the housemates on the sofas._ **

_~Housemates.~_

Stiles sits between Scott and Lydia, and tries not to jiggle his leg.

_~Big Brother has noticed that there has been an outbreak of tricks being played on the housemates today.~_

Lydia's eyes narrow dangerously.

_~Big Brother would like to know if anyone has any idea who the culprit might be. If you can guess correctly, you will bank points towards this week's shopping task.~_

That must mean Stiles' work is done. Also that Big Brother is being sneaky and telling lies, because it was made very clear to him that if they guessed it was him, they'd fail the task. 

Unless it was one huge twist, and they really did have to work it out.

Stiles toyed briefly with the idea of dropping a hint or two but, on balance, whether they were supposed to get it right or wrong he was pretty sure he'd lose them everything if he gave them clues. 

_~You have two minutes to discuss who you think it might be. Scott, as True Alpha, the final decision is yours.~_

"It's obviously Stiles," says Lydia.

"What?" says Stiles. "That's so unfair!"

"And unlikely," says Derek. "I don't think he's got the brains to do all that."

"Hey!" This time Stiles' protest is a hundred percent real. "That's not cool, man!"

"Yeah, that salt and sugar thing wasn't even funny," says Ethan.

"The foam in the pool was genius, though," says Scott.

"It has to be the Twins," says Isaac. 

"Interesting," says Peter. "They do have an advantage. If one disappears to do something underhand the rest of us are less likely to notice."

"That's bullshit," says Ethan. "I've been with Danny all day."

"He has," says Danny. They give each other a knowing look that Stiles notes with interest.

"And I was with Lydia," says Aiden.

"Not all the time," says Allison. "Lydia and I were in the garden half the afternoon."

"That would give him long enough," says Isaac. "Most of the tricks happened after lunch, didn't they?"

"It is so obviously Stiles," says Lydia. "Think about it, Scott."

Scott shakes his head. "I'd have known if it was Stiles. No way could he have kept it secret from me."

Stiles goes along with the high five that follows Scott's misplaced trust, and tries to keep his expression neutral. An uneasy knot forms in his stomach, though: he doesn't like lying to Scott, even for the (probable) benefit of the greater good.

_~Scott. Please stand up, and tell Big Brother who you think has been playing tricks on the house.~_

Scott gets to his feet and takes a deep breath. He looks around the room, and makes up his mind. "I think it was the Twins. They had plenty of opportunity and we don't know them well enough yet to spot if they have a tell."

_~Is that your final decision?~_

"Scott," hisses Lydia.

"That's my final decision," says Scott.

_~Thank you, Scott. There are refreshments available in the store room. Housemates are free to collect them.~_

Lydia growls in frustration, and storms off to the bedroom.

*

_**1.05 am. Most of the housemates have gone to bed. Stiles has come to the Diary Room.** _

Stiles: Whassup Bro? (yawns)

Big Brother: Have you enjoyed today, Stiles?

Stiles: Sure, it's been a lot of fun, and the Twins got the blame. I wish it had been Peter in the shower instead of Lydia, though. 

Big Brother: Stiles. Your work is not yet done. 

Stiles: Cool, more tricks? Only there's this really good one we played on Coach back at high school, with a fake birthday present and-

Big Brother: Big Brother will get back to you with the details at a later time. Meanwhile stay alert, Stiles, and make sure no-one discovers your secret.

Stiles: (frowning) Okay. I mean, they think it's done and they're pretty much all convinced it's the Twins, except for Lydia and the Twins themselves, and I even overheard Ethan saying he thought it might have been Aiden. Are you going to try something different?

Big Brother: Big Brother will get back to you, Stiles.

Stiles: Okay. (yawns again) Is there anything else? Because I'm beat. It's hard work being evil, you know?

Big Brother: You may leave the Diary Room, Stiles. Good night.

*


	23. Week Six: Day Forty

_**It's Day Forty in the Big Brother House, and today Evil Big Brother will unleash another Evil Twist.** _

_**9.49 am. Stiles and Derek are eating breakfast.** _

Stiles slides one half of a perfect mushroom omelette onto Derek's plate, and puts the other half on his. He perches on his stool at the breakfast bar and takes a swig of coffee.

"Eggs and home-baked bread," says Derek. "You're a keeper."

"Better believe it, baby," says Stiles, and shovels food into his mouth. He chews happily, beating out a rhythm on the counter with his knife. 

"Quit that, Stiles," says Lydia, who's passing on her way to the fridge. "Or I'll take Derek away."

"You wouldn't dare," says Stiles.

"Oh, I really would." Lydia pulls out a carton of juice, looking like she's about to hit someone with it. 

"I think she would," says Derek.

"You'll have to find something else to do with my hands, then," Stiles tells Derek.

Derek grins at him. "Funnily enough, a few things do spring to mind."

Lydia slams the fridge door shut. "You're giving me cavities."

"You're just jealous because Aiden doesn't bake you bread," says Stiles.

Lydia rolls her eyes at him. 

"What's Scott doing with Isaac?" asks Derek, and they all look into the garden, just in time to see Scott throw Isaac in the pool. 

"Woah!" says Stiles. 

Isaac bobs up to the surface of the water. "He doesn't seem upset," says Derek. "Even though he's fully dressed. I wonder what that's about?"

"I have an idea," says Lydia.

Of course she wanders off to find a glass for her juice instead of clueing them in on it, and resists all further questioning.

*

_**11.15 am. Stiles and Scott are in the Sky Room.** _

"So what happened with Isaac this morning, buddy? I thought I was going to have to come and restrain you in a manly fashion, while Allison tearfully begged Big Brother to let you stay."

"I didn't hurt him," says Scott, quickly. "I wouldn't. He asked me to do it."

"Isaac asked you to chuck him, fully clothed, into the pool?"

"Kind of. He actually asked me to hit him, but I figured that would get me ejected."

"Totally. That's a mean trick, dude!"

"Oh, I don't think it was. He was just as happy I threw him in the pool. I think he feels guilty."

"What for?"

Scott takes a gulp from his can of Coke, which is covered with a large 'cola' label in case of inadvertent advertising. (They'd peeled off a couple, after an argument between Erica and Cora as to whether it was proper Coke or not. It was.) "Allison."

"What about Allison?"

"Isaac likes her."

"Yeah? She's very likeable. Oh, wait, you mean likes-likes?"

Scott nods, and belches.

"Oh. How do you feel about that, buddy?"

"Pretty crappy. I know we haven't been together for a while, but I really liked her a lot, and we had all those times in the storeroom-"

"Ha! I knew it was the storeroom. Where there's no cameras, right?"

Scott raises a hand and Stiles high-fives him. "Only one camera, and we worked out it can't possibly reach the far end."

"But you did." Stiles smirks.

"Did what?"

"Reach the far end."

Scott splutters Coke all over himself. Dabbing him with a cushion doesn't help, but Stiles tries anyway. 

"I'm sorry, dude," Stiles says when they've settled again, slightly sticky and Coke-stained. "About Allison."

"Me too. I guess I thought maybe on the outside…"

Stiles feels a pang of anxiety at the thought of the 'outside', that weird, half-memory of a world that didn't have Derek or Scott in it. 

"But we're not together now," Scott continues. "So if she wants Isaac, it's not like I can stand in her way."

"You think she likes him back?"

Scott shrugs, staring down at his can, swirling it around to release the bubbles. "She might." 

"No. Surely not. I mean… Isaac?"

"He's a good guy, Stiles."

Stiles huffs. "I still think he wears too many sweaters."

Scott gives him a cute little half-smile. "They did weigh him down a bit in the pool."

Stiles laughs, and hugs Scott hard, giving him an extra little squeeze before he lets go, to let him know that he'll be there forever. 

Scott squeezes back.

*

_**2.54pm. Big Brother has called Stiles to the Diary Room.** _

Big Brother: Stiles, it is the last day of your reign as Evil Stiles, and Big Brother has one final task for you to perform.

Stiles: Seriously? I thought you'd forgotten about that.

Big Brother: Big Brother never forgets. 

Stiles: (grinning) Like an elephant?

Big Brother: Stiles.

Stiles: Oh, ok. Serious-voice Big Bro, I get it. 

Big Brother: This week is Big Brother's week of Tricks and Mischief. And you, Stiles, will be the only housemate making nominations.

Stiles: What?

Big Brother: In a moment, to help with Big Brother's biggest trick of all, you will give the names of the people you wish to nominate for the public vote. No other housemates will be asked to nominate, and your choices will determine who will face eviction.

Stiles: Shit. 

Big Brother: Stiles. Please tell Big Brother who you wish to nominate, and your reason for that nomination.

Stiles: Wow, that's fast. Okay. Right. Um… well, the first person I want to nominate is Peter. Obviously. Because he's scheming, manipulative and nobody trusts him. Or likes him. Or wants to be around him, really. He hangs out on the fucking stairs to the Sky Room all the time, so nobody can go up there for a private conversation. And he's a bad influence on Derek.

Big Brother: Your first nomination is Peter. Please give the name of your second nomination, and your reason for that nomination.

Stiles: Hmm. Well, this is difficult. If you'd asked me yesterday I'd have said the Twins, because they're arrogant little bitches, to be honest with you. And they're new, haven't been through as much as the rest of us and I don't like how they're stirring things up all the time. Aiden's all over Lydia like a rash, it's disgusting. So, yeah, I would have said them. But then today… it's got to be Isaac, Big Bro. I've never really gotten along with him, although he has been marginally less annoying recently. But Scott's my best friend and Isaac's got a real nerve making any kind of move on Allison, when he knows she and Scott had a thing.

(pause)

(Stiles taps his fingertips on the arm of the Diary Room chair, chewing on his lower lip)

Big Brother: Stiles. Please give me the name of your second nomination.

Stiles: (looks straight at camera) Isaac. I nominate Isaac.

Big Brother: Please confirm, your nominations are: Peter, and Isaac.

Stiles: Yeah.

Big Brother: Thank you, Stiles.

Stiles: They'll know it's me. They'll work it out, right? Because none of them have nominated, have they? 

Big Brother: Big Brother will be talking to the house later today. Meanwhile the usual rules about not discussing nominations apply.

Stiles: Shit. Well, I stand by my decision. But this all wrong, Big Bro. Very undemocratic. Uncool, man. Uncool.

Big Brother: Big Brother welcomes your comments, but would like to remind you that Big Brother is the sole and ultimate authority in the Big Brother House. Housemates must follow the rules, and Big Brother may change the rules at any time. You are now free to leave the Diary Room.

Stiles: (stares at the camera for a long moment before leaving the Diary Room)

*

_**5.15pm. Big Brother has called the Housemates to the sofas to hear the outcome of this week's nominations.** _

The plasma screen flickers to life amid exclamations of mild outrage that there haven't been any nominations. Stiles sits on the edge of the sofa, gnawing on his thumbnail. 

"It's another twist," says Lydia. 

"Maybe there won't be any nominations," says Isaac. "Maybe that's the twist."

Stiles looks down at the floor.

_~Housemates. This week the house has been plagued by an evil trickster. Yesterday housemates were asked to guess who was playing tricks on the House, and Scott guessed it was the Twins. Scott. Please stand up.~_

Scott gets to his feet. He stands tall, hands folded in front of him, and Stiles feels proud. 

_~Scott, The Twins were not the trickster.~_

Scott looks around, downcast. "Sorry, guys."

He's answered by a reassuring murmur.

_~Will the Housemate who was playing tricks for Big Brother please stand up.~_

Stiles gets very slowly to his feet. He glances at Derek, who looks shocked. 

"Sorry, guys," Stiles mutters. He can feel Lydia glaring at him. "I had to do what they said."

"Of course you did," says Scott. "Or we'd have failed the task, right?"

Stiles nods, although he's getting an increasingly uncomfortable feeling that it might not be that simple.

_~However.~_

Yup. Here it comes.

_~Stiles earned twenty points for each of Big Brother's tricks he performed correctly. As Stiles performed all twelve tricks to Big Brother's satisfaction, he has earned two hundred and forty points towards this week's shopping task._

_Housemates. The number of points required for the task to be won will now appear on the screen.~_

Stiles looks straight to the screen. 

Two hundred and thirty five points. 

"We got it, dude! Awesome!"

Everyone tries to high-five Stiles at once, there's hugging and jumping around, and Stiles feels the tension drain away: he did the right thing, no-one's mad (apart from Lydia, and she's always at least a little mad). He can breathe at last.

_~Housemates. Please sit down.~_

They all sink back onto the sofas. Of course, nominations. Stiles feels a bit sorry for Isaac, but he has no regrets. The bro code is definitely on his side, and hopefully Peter will actually get evicted at last.

_~Earlier today, Stiles was called to the Diary Room and told that he, and he alone, would be making nominations this week.~_

The screen comes back to life and suddenly Stiles is looking at himself in the Diary Room, nominating Peter. Then Isaac. Stiles stares straight at the screen, not able to make eye contact with Isaac, or with Allison, who makes a small noise of surprise when Diary Room Stiles gives his reasons for nominating Isaac. 

"Dude, you didn't have to do that for me," says Scott.

Stiles shrugs, not sure what he's allowed to say. Is it still discussing nominations, when his nominations have already been shared with everyone? He doesn't want to risk getting anyone into trouble, especially Scott.

_~However.~_

Stiles looks up at the ceiling.

_~The Evil Spirit of Big Brother has not finished controlling Stiles' decisions._

_In the recent questionnaire completed by housemates, Stiles was asked the names of his closest friend in the house, and his sworn enemy. Stiles, please give the names of your closest friend and sworn enemy, as you told Big Brother.~_

"Er… well this will be a surprise to precisely no-one - Peter's my nemesis, pretty much. And Scott's my best friend." He throws a wink at Derek. "Platonic friend, that is."

_~The Trickster Spirit of Big Brother has decided to reverse Stiles' nominations. Scott. Please stand up.~_

"No!" Stiles screams at the monitor. "You can't do that!"

"It's okay, Stiles," says Scott.

_~Scott. As Stiles nominated his sworn enemy, the Trickster Spirit of Big Brother has decided that you, as his best friend, will face the public vote instead.~_

"No!" yells Stiles.

_~Stiles nominated Isaac on the grounds that he didn't like the way Isaac was making a move on Allison.~_

"I haven't done a thing!" wails Isaac. "Stiles, what the fuck?"

_~Big Brother has reversed this nomination too. Allison, please stand up.~_

Stiles tries to get to his feet, but Lydia holds him back. "Oh, shit. Please, you can't!"

Allison stands up, and Scott takes her hand.

_~Scott and Allison, you will face the public vote this Friday. The public will be asked to save their preferred housemate from Big Brother's Trickster Spirit. The housemate with the least votes will be evicted. Do you understand?~_

Allison nods. Scott lifts his chin and rolls his shoulders back. "Yeah, Big Brother."

"No!" yells Stiles. "I didn't know! It's not fair!"

Lydia still has hold of his arm; she squeezes his hand but he pulls himself free and runs to the bedroom. He dives under his duvet and lets the tears soak into his pillow.

*

_**6.32 pm. It's an hour since Big Brother's Evil Twist resulted in Scott and Allison being nominated. Several of the housemates are in the bedroom. They are worried about Stiles.** _

"I think he's asleep," says Scott. Stiles curls in tighter on himself underneath the bedclothes and wishes they'd all go away.

"We should leave him alone," says Derek.

Derek is very wise.

"I suppose a pity-party is inevitable," says Peter. "Oh, the melodrama."

Several voices yell "shut up!" in unison. Stiles grips a corner of the quilt in his fist and screws his eyes up tight. 

"Okay," says Scott, reluctantly. "Come on guys, let's go and see if Lydia needs a hand with dinner."

Stiles holds his breath and listens carefully to the soft thumps of footsteps on the carpet as people leave the bedroom. He waits in the silence that follows for several minutes before peeling back the duvet and sucking in a gulp of cool, refreshing air.

"Ah. There you are," says Derek. 

Derek's sitting on Lydia's bed, his face patient and calm. He's wearing that burgundy shirt that Stiles really likes. He looks handsome. Kind.

Stiles pulls his head back under the duvet again like a scared turtle.

"It wasn't you who nominated them," says Derek. "Don't forget, you didn't choose this. Big Brother chose this."

But Derek was wrong. Big Brother had played by his own rules, and Stiles had failed to anticipate them. All the clues had been there, but he'd ignored them, too caught up in the mischief to stop and think about where it was all leading. He should have seen it coming. If he'd seen it coming, he could have changed it.

Now Allison and Scott were up for eviction, and there was nothing anyone could do. At least one of them would be leaving on Friday night.

And it was all Stiles' fault.

*

_**10:38 am. Some of the housemates are playing a game they have made up using some discarded bottle tops. Stiles and Scott are talking in the bedroom.** _

Stiles' mouth is numb with toothpaste and mouthwash, and all he wants to do is get into bed and sleep. For real this time. But when he comes back from the bathroom, Scott is sitting on the bed nursing a bottle of beer, and Stiles knows he can't hide any more. He owes Scott more than that.

"Dude, I'm sorry," Stiles says, sitting on the bed. 

"It's okay." Scott squeezes his hand. "Hey, you're freezing."

"Yeah, I think they used all the hot water when the guy came to fix the shower."

"D'you want a sweater?"

"No, thanks. I think it would be a bit hypocritical, considering the whole Isaac thing. I may shun all knitwear for the rest of my life as a symbol of repentance."

"You're taking way too much blame for this."

"Yeah, well, nobody else walked straight into the big trap-shaped trap marked 'trap', did they? I guess the good news is that I'm bound to be evicted too. At the next possible opportunity."

"Stiles, it wasn't you. Nobody blames you."

Stiles shakes his head. He pulls on a clean pair of socks: his feet are like blocks of ice after the cold shower. 

"Well, apart from Danny," says Scott, smoothing out his pillow. "He might be mad at you, I guess."

"Danny? I didn't do anything to Danny. Did I?"

"He kind of had an accident. With his shower gel."

"What?"

"Well… it turns out he's allergic to red food dye."

"Allergic? Where is he? I should apologise, I had no idea!"

Scott grabs Stiles as he's rushing past the bed, and pulls him down. He lands next to Scott with a bounce. "Whoah, whoah. He's not here any more. He had to go for treatment."

Stiles goes cold. "Treatment? What treatment?"

"That's all we know. He had a long talk with Ethan and then he went to the Diary Room. I guess he didn't want to make a fuss, you know what Danny's like."

"That's terrible! I wouldn't hurt Danny, not in a million years!"

"Of course not. No-one thinks you would. Ethan says Danny didn't even know himself he was allergic, or he would have put it on the form."

Stiles hangs his head. "You should all hate me. All of you."

"Don't be an idiot," says Scott, and gives him a hug that Stiles will never, in a million years, believe he deserves.

*


	24. Week Six: Day Forty One

_**Day Forty One. 3.47 am.** _

_**Yesterday the Evil Spirit of Big Brother twisted Stiles' nominations.** _

_**Most of the housemates are asleep. Stiles is in the living area.** _

Stiles wakes with a start, half way to panic, not knowing where he is. He's on his feet before he knows it, dragging in frenzied breaths. Breathe, Stiles. Breathe. You can do it. Relax. Count. One, two, three, four…

Stiles counts off numbers on his fingers, and finally his lungs open and suck air in. He falls back on the sofa with the rush of it. The sofa. He slept here, because he couldn't bear to lie next to Scott, knowing he's effectively put him and Allison up for nomination.

Stiles scrubs at his hair, and yawns. He had a nightmare, but he doesn't want to prod at it. Better if it stays forgotten.

He tries to work out what time it is at home, what day of the week, what shift his Dad will be on. Images fly through his head, anxious fictions of his Dad shot in an alley somewhere, bleeding and alone; his Dad coming home to an empty house, dropping his keys in the bowl by the door, sighing, making his way to an empty kitchen, an empty fridge, calling for greasy, unhealthy take-out, collapsing with chest pains and no-one there to help him-

Stiles squeezes his eyes shut for a short, sharp blink, cheeks wet with tears. He sits up, looking for something real to focus on, lungs fluttering with short breaths.

It's not quite dark in the living area. The bedroom is kept black with window shutters, but here there's a soft light over the kitchen counter, floor lights in the stairs leading up to the Diary Room, and he can see the solar-powered spot lamps in the garden. 

He'd been so stupid, to let Big Brother use him that way. Everyone will hate him. Even Derek. 

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Stiles' Dad's voice chimes in. _That's 4am thinking, son. Go back to sleep._

A camera whirrs towards him. It feels like a glance of concern. Big Brother checking up on him, making sure he's not cracking up. 

Stiles gets to his feet, and stomps up to the Diary Room.

*

_**3.55 am.** _

Stiles: (sits on the Diary Room chair, expression serious, looking straight ahead, at the camera)

Big Brother: Hello, Stiles. How are you feeling?

Stiles: This is crazy, but I'm glad it's you. Girl-you, I mean. Girl-voice you. It helps. I mean, I know you're still Big Brother. But you're not the bastard who made me do the evil thing.

Big Brother: Stiles, are you alright?

Stiles: (looking down at his hands) No. No, I'm not. I want to take it back.

Big Brother: What do you want to take back?

Stiles: My nominations. Pretty much the whole of the last three days, actually.

Big Brother: What, in particular, do you regret about the last three days, Stiles?

Stiles: Oh, come on. Big Brother sees everything. The whole evil-Stiles thing? That. I don't want to put gunk in the shower, I don't want to poison Danny and I don't want to nominate Scott and Allison.

Big Brother: Big Brother would like to make it clear that you were in no way responsible for any harm to Danny's health. You followed Big Brother's instructions in good faith, and any consequences are not your fault. Is that clear?

Stiles: If I had refused to take part in the task it wouldn't have happened.

Big Brother: Big Brother is concerned that you're taking this task too seriously, Stiles. 

Stiles: (shrugs) Whatever you say. 

Big Brother: Is there someone in the house you can talk to about what happened?

Stiles: What d'you think? After all I did? After I got Scott and Allison put up for eviction? No! No, Big Brother, there is no-one I can talk to. No. In fact, forget I ever came in here. Can I leave now, please?

Big Brother: Big Brother would like you to stay for a few minutes, Stiles. Take some deep breaths.

Stiles: (leans back in the chair, arms folded across his chest) 

*

_**8.21 am. Allison and Isaac are making breakfast.** _

Stiles lies under the duvet Big Brother had given him when he refused to go back to the bedroom, and pretends he's still asleep. It's easier than saying anything to anyone. The duvet smells of hotel laundry, but it's really soft against his skin.

"Do you want coffee?" That's Isaac's voice.

"Yes, please." Allison. "Um, Isaac?"

"Yeah?"

"Last night, when you and I, in bed, when we were…."

"Oh. Oh, you mean when we were…. Us?"

"Yes. I need to know if that was really you. If you really wanted us to… be us."

"It was definitely me. And I did."

"It would be okay, if it was just because I got nominated and you felt sorry for me. Really, it would."

"It wasn't because you were nominated."

"Oh."

There's a pause. Stiles risks a peep over the top of his duvet. 

They're holding hands, grinning goofily at each other. She used to grin at Scott like that.

"Unless you wanted it to be because of that," says Isaac. "I mean I would totally understand, because in a kind of way it was my fault. If Stiles hadn't nominated me…."

"No. No, I'm glad it wasn't. And it isn't. It really isn't."

And then there are kissing noises, and Stiles pulls the duvet right back over his head.

Just when he'd thought things couldn't get worse.

*

_**2.47 pm. Big Brother has given the housemates a task. Housemates are trying to guess what the public think of them, according to a recent poll on social media.** _

It's a stupid task, and Stiles hates it. There are hashtags involved. Unpleasant hashtags, like #grumpy, and #fake, and #gameplayer. The public have voted on Twitter to say which hashtags apply best to which housemate, and now the housemates have to guess which of them got the most votes for each hashtag, and Stiles hates it.

_~Stiles. Which housemate have the public voted to be the best match for hashtag 'fame'?~_

Stiles looks around the faces sitting on the sofas. He doesn't know much about getting famous, or even who would want it. 

"Lydia," he says, eventually. "She's brilliant at everything and drop-dead gorgeous. She deserves to be famous."

Lydia's eyes go a little wide, and she smiles. He would have killed for one of those smiles five weeks ago, but now it may as well have been Scott grinning at him.

Well, maybe not quite. Stiles is still Stiles, after all.

He winks at her.

_~The housemate the public voted to be the best match for hashtag 'fame' is…. Allison.~_

"Really?" Stiles is genuinely surprised.

"Of course," says Scott, loyally. 

"No, I didn't mean… sorry, Allison, I figured you're a private person, so…."

"No, you're totally right," Allison says. "I don't know where they got that from." She frowns and nibbles at her lower lip.

_~Aiden and Ethan. Which housemate do you think the public have chosen as most deserving of the hashtag 'backstabber'?~_

Aiden and Ethan conspire for a few moments. There's a lot of exchanging of meaningful looks and shrugging of shoulders before Aiden says, "Stiles."

"Wait, what?" says Stiles.

"That's ridiculous," says Derek, giving the Twins a full-on scowl.

"No, it's not," says Aiden. "It's just that the rest of you are blind to it. Think about it. Two of the most likely winners are up for eviction this week, and another is sick. All because of Stiles. All the way back to the start - and we watched the show before we came in, remember - wherever there's trouble, Stiles is right in the middle of it. He's playing a game, and you're a fool if you don't see it."

"Lydia was the game player, actually," says Peter, not at all helpfully. "According to the public. This is about backstabbing. There's a difference."

"Nobody asked you, hashtag 'manipulator'," says Stiles.

"That's not even a hashtag," Peter points out. 

"Yet," says Stiles. 

_~The person the public voted as the biggest backstabber was…. Isaac.~_

"Ha!" says Stiles, but he's drowned out by the Twins' unison whining: "Damn, we should have thought of that!"

Then Isaac and the Twins start yelling at each other, and it takes the combined strength of Scott, Derek and Peter, and a lot of assertive instruction from Big Brother, to keep them apart. 

Finally everyone's settled, and there's one hashtag left: #niceguy.

Lydia gets it bang on the nail when she says Scott, which surprises precisely no-one. 

*

_**8.45pm As a reward for their performance in today's task, the housemates have enjoyed a special three course dinner, with menu and wine selected on Big Brother's Bit on the Side by Masterchef Presenter Gregg Wallace to suit the housemates' personalities.** _

"I thought you loved curly fries, dude."

Stiles poked disconsolately at his plate. "I do. And popping candy. And British ketchup. I just don't feel hungry."

"You should eat," says Scott, around a mouthful of apple pie. "Derek, tell your boyfriend to eat."

"He's not my boyfriend," says Stiles, because God, they haven't been anywhere near that conversation yet, and Stiles wishes really, really hard that everyone would just leave him alone in his well of guilt and misery.

"Eat, Stiles," says Derek. 

"You're not my boyfriend," says Stiles.

Derek's eyes go all big and surprised, and Stiles feels like a total jerk. Derek blinks and looks down at Stiles' plate. "You should still eat. You haven't had anything since yesterday."

"I had a cookie this afternoon. I won't starve."

"Stiles, please," says Derek, at the same time as Scott says, "Dude!" and it's too much. Their concern is tangible and grating, and Stiles can't bear it. He's about to push away from the table and go and find somewhere - anywhere - to hide, when he realises Derek's trying to tell him something. With his eyebrows. 

It's just like old times.

Derek's eyebrows direct Stiles' attention to the other end of the table, where Allison and Isaac are deep in conversation, and she's doing that thing where she tucks her hair behind her ear, like she used to do when she was talking to Scott. 

Then Stiles realises that Scott has noticed too. He sees misery on his friend's face that might, just might, not be all Stiles' fault. 

Stiles stuffs curly fries in his mouth, and chews.

Scott and Derek beam at him, so he stuffs some in Scott's mouth too, and then the ketchup gets involved and there's an almighty mess to clear up afterwards.

But at least it makes Scott smile.

*

_**12.48 am. Nearly all the housemates are asleep. Stiles has come to talk to Big Brother.** _

Big Brother: Hello, Stiles.

Stiles: Hi. Look, I won't drag this out any longer than necessary. I want to leave.

Big Brother: Why do you want to leave, Stiles?

Stiles: Because I'm an idiot and I don't deserve to be in here. And Scott does. So this is the deal, Big Bro. You pull a switch, like you did last week. I go, they stay.

Big Brother: Big Brother will not be swapping nominations this week, Stiles.

Stiles: Then I'll just leave. And you'll have to keep them both in, because the numbers will be short.

Big Brother: The eviction this Friday will take place regardless.

Stiles: (sighs deeply) 

Big Brother: Stiles, Big Brother would like you to remember that you did not put Scott and Allison up for eviction. Do you think either of them blames you for their nomination?

Stiles: No. Because they're really nice people. Unlike me, who is a fucking moron. Look, there has to be some way out. What if I come up with an amazing twist, or something?

Big Brother: Have you talked to Scott and Allison about this?

Stiles: Don't be a jerk, Big Bro. We covered the whole 'not talking to people' thing this morning, remember? Well, you're a different Big Bro. Maybe they didn't pass it on in the handover. Tell you what, I'll bring you up to speed. Lydia still hasn't forgiven me for the shower, never mind the fact I got her best friend nominated. I've told Derek he's not my boyfriend, and I meant it in a non-clingy way but it came out wrong, so he's looking at me like I kicked his puppy. And it's like Lydia said about Jackson and that Matt psycho, right? Guilt by association. I don't want Derek to lose votes because he's stupid enough to want to hang out with an idiot like me. Let's see, who else could I have this little heart to heart with? Well, Isaac hates me even more than usual, because a) I nominated him and b) that got turned around into Allison being up and he has this, this _thing_ going on with her, apparently, and oh, wait, see, I made that happen because if Allison hadn't been up for eviction I bet you a thousand dollars nothing would have happened between them while she's still in the house, not if she wasn't sure she's going on Friday and Isaac wasn't upset about it. I would rather stab my eyes with a fork than talk to Peter about the weather, never mind my feelings, and the Twins think I'm all hashtag-backstabber so they're probably not the best shoulders to cry on. Oh, and I could maybe talk to Danny but wait! No! Because I played a stupid joke on him that put him in the fucking hospital! So. See? No talk for the Stiles.

(sniffs and wipes his face on the sleeve of his hoodie)

Big Brother: Stiles, you can always talk to Big Brother.

Stiles: That's what got me into this mess in the first place. Let me out. I miss my Dad, I miss stupid Beacon Hills with its mountain lions and its sarcastic chemistry teachers and its ridiculous rainstorms and I want to go home. Let me out.

Big Brother: Big Brother would like you to stay in the Diary Room for a few minutes until you're feeling better.

Stiles: You're gonna have a long wait, you know? 

Big Brother: Big Brother is always here for you, Stiles.

Stiles: (clenches his fists very tight, then relaxes, takes a deep breath, looks into the camera, eyes narrowed, a slight smile on his face) You want me to stay? Right then. I will. I'll stay here all fucking night, and I won't stay quiet. I'm gonna keep fucking talking until you to let me the fuck out of here. How about that?

Big Brother: Big Brother is listening, Stiles.

*


	25. Week Six: Day Forty Two

_**It's Day Forty Two. 6.15am.** _

_**Today will be the last day in the house for either Scott or Allison, who face eviction tonight.** _

_**For the second night in a row, Stiles has slept in the living area.** _

Stiles is awake when Isaac comes into the room (he left his pillow in the bedroom and he can't sleep without his pillow), but he takes care not to move. He watches through slitted eyes as Isaac gets a bottle of water from the fridge and goes outside. Isaac sits on the bench in the smoking area, head down, screwing and unscrewing the lid of the bottle. 

Stiles turns onto his back and stares at the ceiling, with all its cameras and the modular tiles that hide the wiring. His eyes smart from crying, and his shoulder aches from where he fell asleep in a weird position on the Diary Room chair. He's pretty sure he fell asleep talking, and when he woke up Big Brother had handed over to the psych. She didn't exactly persuade him to stay, but seemed to understand his anxiety issues and shit and didn't argue when he said it was his fault. She gave him some pretty good advice. She even quoted Churchill at him. 'If you're going through hell, keep going.' Yeah. Well. So. Here he is. Keeping going.

"Hey."

Stiles turns his head and find himself looking at Derek's beautiful, beautiful face. "Hey." His voice comes out like a barn door creak.

"Why are you sleeping out here, Stiles?"

"I was scared Peter would strangle me in my sleep?"

"Try again."

Stiles wants to be honest with Derek, he really does. He wants to talk. But there's too many words, and they're clumping into a spiky knot in his throat, and he _can't._ He shakes his head.

"Stiles, this is ridiculous. We're all really worried about you."

The door swings open. It's Allison. She runs into the garden, to Isaac. She slides her arms around him, and they hug.

"We should get Scott breakfast," says Stiles.

"Pancakes," says Derek, with a nod. "Is there any maple syrup?"

"That's what it says on the label," says Stiles, sitting up and shoving the duvet away. "Sadly the label is a lie."

Derek smiles at him, and part of Stiles wants to fling his arms around Derek like Allison did to Isaac, and kiss his stupidly beautiful face.

But the phrase 'guilt by association' keeps going round and around in his head, so he gets up and picks a fight about the kind of flour they should use instead.

*

_**9.42am. Earlier this morning, the housemates were told that Danny will not be returning to the Big Brother house for health reasons. Stiles is alone in the Sky Room.** _

Stiles sits under a blanket, watching the others in the garden below. He cradles a mug of coffee in his hands, and keeps an eye open for Lydia, who keeps telling him to 'get the fuck over himself and join in'. 

A week from today - or sooner, maybe - he will be evicted, and all this will be over. 

His eyes skip inevitably to Derek, and Derek lifts his head, as if sensing that Stiles is looking at him. Fuck. Derek gives him a smile, an invitation. But Stiles can't. How can he go and join in like nothing ever happened? The whole nominations thing was bad enough. But Danny….

"First rule of practical jokes, Big Bro," Stiles murmurs into his microphone. "Make sure nobody gets hurt."

Big Brother says nothing.

*

_**17:38 pm. Some of the housemates are clearing up after the red herring task.** _

Stiles plunges his hands elbow-deep in washing up water, grateful for any opportunity to do something that might remove the stench of fish from his skin. 

"Dude, Lydia is not happy," says Scott. "I think she has a thing about fish."

"I think it was more having liquidised mackerel actually _in_ her hair that did it," says Stiles.

"Grossest task ever," says Allison, dumping a pile of plates on the draining board. Thankfully the plates are only covered in ketchup. Although Stiles is going off the fine British ketchup lately. It's been put to one too many unwholesome non-food uses.

"Grossest task _yet_ ," says Peter, who is wearing a pink plastic apron and stacking clean dishes on the table. It's the first time Stiles can remember Peter contributing anything, and it's only because Big Brother made him, because clearing up is their penalty for losing the task. Derek, Isaac and the Twins are off enjoying their prize - a delicious fish and chip supper, because Big Brother is hilarious - in the Sky Room.

"We shouldn't tempt fate," says Scott. "It can always get worse."

Stiles can't help thinking that actually, for Scott or Allison it probably _is_ the last task ever.

He scrubs harder, and keeps his gaze fixed firmly on the bubbles.

*  
**_9.42 pm. The housemates have gathered on the sofa for this week's eviction._**

_~Housemates, this is Emma.~_

They all say hello, and wave. Stiles chews his lower lip, holding tight to Scott's hand on one side and Lydia's on the other.

_~Allison. Scott. The public have spoken, your fate is sealed.~_

They both got cheers; Stiles thinks maybe Scott's were slightly louder, and maybe there was a 'Get Stiles Out!', but it's really hard to tell. He's learned that your ears tend to seek out exactly what you don't want to hear.

_~This week, the public have been voting to save. The housemate with the least votes, and the sixth to be evicted is….~_

There's a snatch of a chant from the crowd, this one loud and distinct: 'Evict Evil Peter!' It's small comfort, but Stiles takes what he can.

The wait goes on, and on, and on.

_~Allison.~_

Emma sounds sad, Stiles is wretched. Scott lets go of his hand to hug Allison, who's telling him it's all right, it's perfect like this, she was glad it was him up for eviction with her and it's right he should stay. Scott sobs and buries his face in her hair. 

Allison runs out of time before she can say goodbye to anyone else, not even Isaac, who's left standing forlorn by the sofa. She runs up the stairs with a final wave, through the double doors at the top and out into the wall of light and noise.

The doors slam shut, and there's silence. Her picture goes grey.

Isaac starts to cry.

*

_**10.25 pm. To cheer up the housemates, Big Brother is throwing them a rave.** _

Big Brother clearly doesn't know the meaning of the word 'tasteless'. 

None of them are in the mood for a party; even the Twins are subdued. But still the music is pumped into the house, relentless electronic, highlighted with streaks of light and occasional puffs of smoke and glitter. 

There's also alcohol. Several bottles of Big Brother House Red. Lydia takes charge, pouring it into glasses and encouraging everyone to drink. Stiles gulps down a couple, hoping it might relax him, but all it does is make the edges more nervy. He thinks about his Dad, wonders how he is, what he's doing. The music stops, thank God, and people break off into groups to chat. Stiles wanders the house. He sits on the edge of the bath for a bit. Scoops up the rubber ducks and takes them out to the garden, where he releases them into the pool.

"Swim free, duckie-dudes," he tells them. "Swim free."

"You trying to get out on grounds of insanity?" asks Scott, from the gazebo.

Stiles can tell he's been crying, but there's a shadow of Scott's usual grin on his face, and it's enough to warm Stiles' heart. 

"I'm really sorry," says Stiles. 

"It wasn't you. I keep telling you."

Stiles shakes his head, and gives the duck nearest the edge a little push.

"Hey, Stiles, d'you see that?"

Stiles lifts his head and looks in the direction Scott's pointing. He squints at the dark shape sprinting across the grass towards the emergency exit behind the water feature.

"I think it's Isaac," he says, with a frown.

_~This is Big Brother. Would Isaac please come away from the boundary fence.~_

"He's leaving!" Scott yells, surging to his feet. "Isaac, stop!"

They both run across the grass, but they're too late. Isaac's through the door before they can reach him.

Scott turns towards the house, keen to go and tell the others what they saw, but Stiles stays rooted to the spot, leaning on the door, breath coming short and shallow and hurting. They've lost Danny, Allison, and now Isaac. All because of him.

"Come on, man," says Scott, grabbing his hand. And Stiles goes.

Big Brother booms the announcement to the house that Isaac has walked just as Stiles and Scott enter the living area. 

"Poor little Isaac," says Peter, dripping sarcasm. "Couldn't cope without his girlfriend."

"Shut up, Peter," says Lydia, sharply.

"He blamed himself for Allison going," says Derek. 

"Because the two of them were getting close?" says Scott. Derek nods.

Guilt by association.

"Lovely boy, he'll be missed," says Peter. "Now, can we get on with the party? Admittedly, it was beyond lame, but I can't bear another round of mourning for someone you're all going to see in two weeks time. Or less."

Stiles snaps. He can't help it. He launches himself at Peter, fists flailing and yelling at the top of his voice. "You fucking insensitive bastard, don't you understand what this means to people?!" 

He doesn't make contact, however hard he tries, because Derek catches him and holds him back in his big, stupidly strong arms. Stiles struggles for a minute or two before he catches the smirk on Peter's stupid face and realises he just fell into a huge trap.

Again.

He wrenches himself free of Derek's hold, and runs towards the Diary Room.

He's half way up the stairs when the music starts again, and he pauses, lets the anger rush through him and fade away with each pulse of the beat. He glances up at the Diary Room door at the top of the stairs, at the button outlined in flashing lights, the giant eye.

Stiles suddenly, more than anything else in the whole wide world, wants to be alone. Somewhere without cameras, without people, without anonymous, treacherous authority. 

He glances over his shoulder, to the kitchen, and finds an answer.

*  
_**11.17pm Most of the Housemates are enjoying Big Brother's Rave. Stiles has been in the store cupboard for fifteen minutes.**_

The music pounds on, and Stiles peels the label off a can of Coke. If they can see him, they'll tell him off. Big Brother might turn a blind eye sometimes, for the sake of a dramatic storyline, but Stiles is certain they won't jeopardise their advertising contracts. 

There's no booming voice telling him to put the label back, so Stiles flicks the tab open on the Coke, relaxes back against a sack of potatoes and puts the can to his lips. It actually tastes better. It really does. More Coke-like, as if the flavour had been stifled by having its shiny red-and-silver logo suffocated in pink cardboard. 

The door opens and Stiles freezes, wondering for a second if the Advertising Police have come to arrest him. 

It's Derek. 

"Hi," says Derek. "You okay?"

"Shut the door," Stiles hisses, and Derek obediently clicks it closed behind him.

"The wine's all gone," says Derek. "But Scott stashed half a bottle under your bed, so if you want some…?"

"No. Thanks. I've got this." Stiles brandishes the branded Coke triumphantly.

"Ah. Mind if I join you?"

Stiles shrugs, because his aversion to company no longer seems to include Derek. He rips the label off another can and hands it to Derek, who takes it before squishing himself in with Stiles and the potato sacks.

They clink cans, and drink. Seconds stretch into minutes, and Derek doesn't say anything, just takes Stiles' hand and winds his fingers between Stiles', watches them wiggling.

"Aren't you going to tell me it isn't all my fault?" says Stiles.

"Would you believe me?"

Stiles shrugs. "Probably not."

"No point then, is there?"

"Huh. I guess not."

"I want you to promise me one thing, Stiles. Just one."

Stiles swallows. Derek's voice is deep and serious, and Stiles isn't sure about making promises. They have a habit of backfiring in here. "Yeah?" he says, barely a whisper.

"Don't leave. Don't walk out like Isaac did. You deserve your place here and it's not up to us to decide when to leave, okay? A lot of people want this opportunity and we're really, really lucky to be here. Anyhow." Derek squeezes Stiles' hand. "I'd go out of my mind if I was left in here without you."

Stiles has no words. He flings his arms around Derek's neck and pushes his face into his shoulder, and nods. 

"That's better," says Derek, and holds him tight.

*

_**12.12 am. Stiles and Derek are in the store cupboard.** _

Derek's tongue is a wicked, wicked thing. It teases and it tickles and it makes Stiles tingle in very, very interesting places. It makes Stiles stop thinking; all he can do is hang on to Derek's broad, broad shoulders and whimper. 

"You like that?" Derek nuzzles the ear he's just been nibbling on.

"I like everything," says Stiles. "God."

Derek chuckles and slips his hand under Stiles' shirt. "That's good to know."

Stiles shivers as Derek's thumb traces circles on the really sensitive patch of skin just above his hip. "I really like that."

"Yeah? I thought it might tickle."

"It totally tickles."

"You like being tickled?"

"There is no way I'm answering that question."

"Okay. I have another question."

Derek lifts his head, and Stiles finds himself looking into his eyes. They're amazing. He could stare into those eyes forever, he really could. Gentle and kind, and he can't decide what colour they are. They look particularly green right now.

"Will you be my boyfriend?" says Derek.

Stiles blinks at him.

"Will you?" Derek asks. 

"Where? Here?"

Derek rolls his eyes. "Yes, Stiles, I want you to be my boyfriend of the store cupboard forever."

"Well, I'm having a lot of fun here, so I'd be a fool to refuse. Yes. I will be your store cupboard-boyfriend, Derek."

"What about in the rest of the house?"

"All of it?"

Derek nods. "Every last inch."

"Well, I think I could manage that."

Derek kisses him, but pulls away just when it's getting serious.

"Huh?" says Stiles.

"And outside," says Derek. 

"In the garden?"

"Stiles." Derek's looking at him intently. Serious. "I want to be your boyfriend outside the house."

Stiles licks his lips. "To eviction and beyond?"

Derek hooks his pinky around Stiles' pinky, and shakes. "To eviction and beyond."

Stiles smirks at him. It's his first proper smirk for days. 

It feels good.

*

_**1.05 am. Stiles and Derek are still in the store cupboard.** _

Derek's wicked, wicked tongue is in Stiles' mouth, and Derek's hands are on Stiles' skin, and Stiles has his fingers in Derek's hair, and he can't stop thinking about how it would feel to have Derek's tongue on other parts of his body. God, it would be perfect. Absolutely perfect. Stiles is achingly hard and grinding against Derek's thigh, and it's heaven just to be able to relieve the pressure a bit. 

"Your hair's really soft, man," says Stiles between kisses.

"Coconut oil shampoo," says Derek, breathless.

"Cool. Can I try some?"

"Yes. If you make me bread tomorrow."

"Sounds fair. Derek?"

"Yes?"

"You're not kissing me any more."

"I can fix that."

"Mmmmmmmm."

*

_**1.25 am. Derek and Stiles are getting very friendly in the store cupboard.** _

Stiles feels the long, hard line of Derek's dick against his hip, and he doesn't think; he's undoing the zip of Derek's jeans, singleminded in his need to touch him. Properly touch him. 

"Stiles!" Derek squeaks.

"Sorry, did I hurt you?" Stiles slips his hand inside, bites his lower lip as he touches the velvety skin of Derek's cock for the first time. "Hey, you're uncut."

Derek clasps his wrist. "Stiles!"

"I like it! It's okay, I like it. I'm not cut either, my Dad- okay, this isn't the time for that story, just trust me, you feel amazing. I want to-"

"Stiles, we can't!" Derek looks really worried. "The cameras," he hisses.

"Oh, don't worry! The cameras don't get this far."

Derek takes a few quick breaths. "They don't?"

Stiles shakes his head. He rubs his knuckles gently along the length of Derek's cock.

"Oh God," says Derek. His grip on Stiles' wrist slackens.

"You like that?" 

"Yeah. Yeah, I like that. Oh fuck, Stiles, are we really going to do this?"

A slow grin spreads across Stiles' face. 

"Yeah," Derek says. "Yeah, we are. Shit."

*

_**1.38 am. Stiles and Derek are oblivious.** _

"Wait, wait, I think I heard something," says Derek

Stiles freezes, panting, and listens along with Derek. "Sounds pretty quiet to me."

"They should all be in bed. It's just I thought I heard…"

Stiles gives Derek's cock a little squeeze, and Derek forgets all about whatever he heard and gets back to the kissing and the unzipping of Stiles' jeans. Stiles can't hold back. It's impossible. He hasn't even touched himself in forty two days, and this is Derek. Derek with the tongue and the fingers and the incredibly hot body and Stiles whimpers into his neck, and comes as soon as Derek touches his cock.

"Wow," says Derek.

Stiles sees stars.

*


	26. Week Seven: Day Forty Three

_**Day Forty Three. 8.15 am.** _

_**Big Brother has a musical alarm for the Housemates this morning.** _

Stiles scrambles out of bed to join Scott headbanging to 'You Shook Me All Night Long' in the middle of the bedroom. To Stiles' surprise, the Twins join them in the second verse; he exchanges a glance with Scott, who evidently thinks this is a _good_ thing. That's plain weird, but Stiles hasn't danced for days and isn't about to give up the opportunity for the sake of an argument. 

He feels good. Really good. His body is very appreciative of the orgasms and the cuddles and it's the beginning of a whole new week. Stiles is all about the fresh starts today. He looks over at Derek, who is sitting up in bed, watching them with a little smile on his face. Derek's eyebrows are all 'headbanging, really Stiles?' but his eyes are 'you're my boyfriend and you're kinda adorable' and Stiles has warm feelings in his chest.

The last of AC/DC's power chords fade away, and Scott high-fives the Twins. 

Whatever alternate universe this is, Stiles is sure he'll get to grips with it in time.

Stiles takes a flying leap at Derek's bed. Derek catches him, and Stiles kisses him all over his stupidly handsome face. Derek laughs, a deep rumble, and tackles him easily onto his back. The kisses get deeper; Stiles wraps his arms around Derek's neck, and he's pretty sure that if they were in the outside world this would be the start of spectacular morning sex.

"Oh, please," Peter says, on his way to the bathroom. "As if the terrible flashback to the 1980s wasn't bad enough, now we have to suffer love's young dream."

"Leave them alone." Scott's voice has such an undertone to it that Stiles stops kissing Derek, and looks up. He didn't know Scott was capable of Undertone.

Peter shrugs, an annoying little smirk on his face, and pushes through the door to the bathroom. 

"What was that about?" says Stiles.

"We had a bit of a discussion last night," says Scott, suddenly busy getting his socks out of the drawer under their bed.

"That's putting it mildly," says Ethan. 

"Didn't you hear anything?" says Aiden. "Where were you, anyway?"

"Around," says Stiles. "Scott, what happened?"

"Nothing," says Scott. 

"He thought you'd walked," says Ethan. "He went berserk."

Lydia appears, pushing her way between the Twins, a vision of incandescent red bed-hair and white silk pyjamas. "Two things," she says. "One, I cannot _believe_ I am doomed to spend the next two weeks with a bunch of idiot men. Two, Peter taunted Scott about Stiles and _told him_ Stiles and Derek had walked. He deserved all he got."

"Scott?" says Stiles. "Is that true? Oh God, you didn't hit him, did you?"

Scott straightens up. He's holding socks: the black, fluffy ones with moons on. "No, I didn't, thanks to Lydia and the Twins. They dragged me off to the Diary Room."

"Oh, man, I'm sorry. I was in the store room. I just needed some time out."

"I know. When I'd calmed down Lydia told me where you were, and that Derek was taking care of you. I can't believe I let Peter get in my head like that. I'm sorry, dude. I know you wouldn't walk."

Stiles remembers how close he'd come. He gets up and hugs Scott so fiercely that he makes Scott squeak.

"Well, that's lovely," says Lydia. "If we've finished with the male bonding, can we all agree that I'm next in the bathroom?"

*

_**9.20 am. Lydia is helping Stiles to make bread.** _

"Pass me the sun-dried tomatoes?"

Lydia slides the packet along the counter to Stiles. He catches it one-handed and deftly tosses a generous handful of tomatoes into his dough. His light, fluffy dough that rose perfectly, and is going to make the most amazing bread Derek has ever tasted. 

"Why are you smirking?"

"Smirking?" Stiles scoops his dough into the bread-tin, careful not to disrupt too many air bubbles.

"Last night you were miserable as sin; this morning you're skipping through the daisies. What happened in that cupboard, Stiles?"

"Derek cheered me up."

"And there's that smirk again. You know, Derek took an awful long time over it. If I didn't know better, I'd think he'd had his wicked way with you right next to the pasta shelf."

"The potato shelf," says Stiles. "No cameras at that end."

He hoped Lydia might have look a little bit shocked, but she doesn't. There's an evil glint in her eye that reminds him of the girl in his math class who used to beat him at every test, or the time he was convinced he'd persuaded Leesa to go to prom with him, only to realise he'd been talking to her twin sister who was a lesbian with a very cruel sense of humour. 

There's a reason he's suspicious of Twins.

Lydia comes in so close that her hair's tickling his ear, and whispers, "Under the smoke alarm."

Stiles' blood runs cold. He abandons his bread and runs towards the store cupboard, almost cannoning into Peter, who's on his way to the Diary Room. Stiles pushes through the store room door and right up to the far end, to the knobbly nest of potato sacks and coke tins where he'd spent the best parts of the best night of his life. He looks up at the blinking red light of the smoke alarm and…

… a camera - the perfect miniature of the big ones in the House - whirrs and shutters around to look him right in the eye.

*

_**9.35 am. Stiles is waiting to go into the Diary Room.** _

Stiles paces the carpet, gnawing on a thumbnail, so pre-occupied he doesn't notice Derek until there's a sudden (not unpleasant) presence backing him (not unpleasantly at all) against the wall.

Apparently Derek's kisses are a) still filthy and b) still able to distract Stiles at a moment's notice. 

"Wait, wait." Stiles pushes Derek back far enough that they can make eye contact without going cross-eyed. "We did a bad thing. A very very bad thing."

"Yeah," says Derek. "It was great, wasn't it?"

"Oh God. So great. But, at the same time, bad. Very very bad. Because, here's the thing. You remember how you said, 'Hey Stiles, what about the cameras?' and I was all, 'Pffft, there are no cameras here, Derek?'"

"Yes?"

"Well, it turns out the lack of cameras was a lie. Perpetrated by me, although I'd like to cite Scott as a very bad influence and contributory factor."

"So, what we did last night…"

"…was captured on film, yes. Big Brother made us our very own sex tape."

"Oh. Well." Derek blinks and swallows.

"I have to say, you're taking this much better than I expected. Aren't you even a teensy bit worried about your family seeing us get all jiggy with each other?"

"They won't show it. They can't, can they?"

"I'm sure they can, providing they don't show actual erect penises."

Derek frowns. 

"I'm gonna ask them," says Stiles. "That's what I'm waiting for, as soon as whoever the fuck is in the Diary Room gets out. Who is it, by the way?"

"Peter, I think."

"I wonder what he's up to?"

"Can I come in with you?"

"Sure. Hey, this is like a whole new step in our relationship, as House-Boyfriends! Our first trip to the Diary Room together."

"Romantic." 

"There should be flowers. And a violin or something."

"Candlelight."

"Is grovelling romantic?"

"It's bound to be," says Derek. "When we do it."

*

_**9.50. Stiles and Derek have come to talk to Big Brother.** _

Big Brother: Good morning, Stiles and Derek.

Stiles and Derek: Good morning.

Stiles: Is that music I can hear?

Big Brother: Big Brother thought you might appreciate a romantic atmosphere.

Stiles: You've been listening to private conversations again, haven't you? 

Big Brother: Big Brother hears everything. 

(beat)

Big Brother: Big Brother also sees everything.

Stiles: Does that include the whole of the store cupboard, by any chance?

Big Brother: Big Brother sees everything, Stiles.

Stiles: Oh shit.

Derek: The important question is, does Big Brother show everything?

Stiles: (looking at Derek) You're sounding a lot calmer than you're feeling, aren't you Der?

Derek: (smiles a little woodenly)

Big Brother: Big Brother broadcasts whatever it sees fit within the bounds of taste and decency which Channel 5 upholds.

Stiles: Hey, I saw a lot of Channel 5 in that hotel we were holed up in before we came in here. Taste and decency aren't the first words that spring to mind.

Derek: (voice a little higher) What did you show?

Big Brother: Big Brother cannot divulge that information at this time.

Stiles: Okay, right, but the highlights show goes out a day late, right? So you must still be editing it today. That means you still haven't made the final decision about what to put in and what to leave out in the interests of aforementioned taste and decency, and, frankly, if you take decency into account, that would only leave you with about ten seconds of coverage from the store cupboard last night. Plus there was the whole fight thing between Scott and Peter. People are going to be way more interested in that than in me and Derek getting to third base.

Derek: I thought it was second?

Stiles: Dude! That was definitely third. God, if I'd had my way we'd have been on for a home run. 

Derek: (kisses Stiles on the neck)

Stiles: (makes unintelligible noises)

Big Brother: Stiles and Derek. Big Brother is not going to divulge what material is broadcast from the house, except to say that any content will comply with the law and spirit of current broadcasting legislation and agreed guidelines, as explained to you before you came into the house.

Stiles: See? It's like I said. Erect penises. Just stay hard, Derek, and they can't film us.

Derek: (fiddling with the hem of Stiles' shirt) That shouldn't be difficult.

Big Brother: You may now return to the house.

Stiles: We never talk any more, Big Bro. Not like we used to.

Big Brother. Big Brother is always here for you, Stiles. And for you, Derek.

Stiles: (to Derek) Did you hear that? She never told me she was seeing other people!

Big Brother: The Diary Room door is now open.

*

_**2.11 pm. Scott and Stiles are in the garden, catching up.** _

It's a hot, sunny day - by English standards - and Stiles is slathering Scott in sunblock. He'd quite like Derek to be smouldering with unspoken jealousy, but he's sitting calmly in the gazebo, chatting with Lydia and Peter, and when Stiles looks at him he simply smiles and waves. 

"So, Lydia says you spent all night in the store cupboard with Derek," says Scott.

"Ah, yeah, about that."

Scott looks over his shoulder at him. "Was it fun?"

"Yeah, yeah it was, _so_ much fun. But, um, listen. There's a thing."

Scott swivels around and props himself up on his elbows. "Is there a problem? Between you and Derek?"

"No, no me and Derek are great. Really great." Stiles grins. "We're boyfriends now."

"Hey, Stiles! That's awesome!" Scott high-fives him. "I'm happy for you."

"Thanks, man."

"So, what's the problem?"

"The problem, my friend, is the Store Cupboard. Which, contrary to popular belief, is not a camera-free zone."

"Not completely, sure. But if you go to the far end-"

"There's a camera under the smoke alarm, Scott. They saw everything. All of me and Derek, and you and Allison. I'm sorry, dude."

Scott goes very still, and Stiles can see the exact moment it all sinks in. 

"Oh my God," says Scott, eyes big as an owl. "They could _see_."

"We can only hope they don't show much, dude."

"Yeah. Shit."

Stiles pats Scott on the shoulder. "I'm sure Allison won't be pissed with you." 

"She'd better not. It was her idea."

"Really?"

"Really." Scott lies back, staring up at the sky. Stiles fiddles with the cap of the sunblock. After a few moments, Scott says, "You know what?" 

"What?"

"It was totally worth it."

Stiles grins. "Oh, totally."

They high five again, then low five, then fist bump and wiggle-finger-dissolve.

_~Will Stiles please come to the Diary Room.~_

"Oh, for fuck's sake. Now what?"

*

_**2.23 pm. Today is nominations day. Stiles has been called to the Diary Room.** _

Big Brother: Please give the name of your first nomination, and explain your reasons for this nomination.

Stiles: Sure. But first, I want a few assurances.

Big Brother: Stiles, you are required to give Big Brother your nominations.

Stiles: And I will. But first I want you to reassure me that I am not the only one nominating. 

Big Brother: All housemates will be nominating this week, Stiles.

Stiles: Great. And everyone's nominations will count?

Big Brother: The housemates with the most nominations will face eviction on Friday.

Stiles: Excellent. No tricks?

Big Brother: Big Brother would like to reassure you that he is no longer feeling evil, Stiles.

Stiles: Mischievous? Mildly naughty?

Big Brother: Not in the slightest. Stiles, please give the name of your first nomination, and your reason for that nomination.

Stiles: Right. Well, my first nomination is Peter. He's evil. Pure evil. Very, very evil.

(pause)

Big Brother: Stiles, Evil is not an adequate reason. 

Stiles: Seriously? I would say evil is pretty much the ultimate reason. But, okay, if you insist, it's not like I'm short of reasons. He's sneaky. He doesn't like me being with Derek. He has this weird sort of connection with Lydia, even though I know she doesn't trust him. He causes trouble and he's mean. Oh, and he hasn't done a single thing around the house since he got here. Is that enough for you? Because I could go on. For like a _year_.

Big Brother: Thank you, Stiles. Now, please give the name of your second nomination, and the reasons for that nomination.

Stiles: My second nomination is the Twins. I don't feel like I've got to know them at all, and the only time I see them there's trouble. They were way out of order with Scott the other day, and they thought I was a backstabber. 

Big Brother: Your nominations are: Peter and the Twins. Thank you, Stiles. You may return to the house.

*

_**10.55pm. Scott and Stiles are making their bed.** _

Sunday is fresh laundry day. Stiles loves the smell of clean sheets, and takes a moment to fit in a surreptitious sniff before he and Scott fling the bottom sheet out across the bed. They've got good at this over the past few weeks: they have a routine for it, and they work really well together. A few synchronised flicks and tucks and the bed is covered in smooth, soft linen. Then Scott stands at the foot of the bed holding the duvet, one of the top corners in each hand. He raises his arms and spreads them wide. This is Stiles' cue to approach Scott from behind with the inside-out duvet cover. 

Stiles tucks the corners into Scott's hands with the duvet, grabs the bottom end of the cover, Scott ducks down, Stiles rolls the cover over Scott and the duvet, shimmies inside with him. They jump left, bodyroll, jump right, bodyroll, count to three and fling themselves on the bed. Slide out of the duvet cover, and _there_. A perfectly flat duvet, in its cover, all four corners in place. high five, low-five, fist-bump, wiggle. 

They fall back on their freshly-made bed, laughing.

"You're gonna have to come to my house and help me make my bed from now on," says Scott. 

"Deal, buddy."

They lay there for a few minutes, getting their breath back. 

"We could do yours and Derek's bed in a minute if you like," says Scott.

"Mine and Derek's? Oh. Oh, sorry, dude, I didn't realise. You should have said."

"Should have said what?"

"That you wanted the bed to yourself. I mean, it makes sense, there's plenty of room now."

"No, no, I don't! But I assumed you'd want to sleep with Derek. After the Store Room and all."

"Oh! Oh, right. No. No. Not in here."

"But you already-"

"That's different. With a bit of luck I'll have loads of nights to spend with him. We've only got another couple of weeks here. I want to make the most of my bro-time, you know?"

Scott beams at him. "Scott 'n' Stiles, dude."

Stiles grins back. "Scott 'n' Stiles."

*


	27. Week Seven: Day Forty Four

_**Day Forty Four. 9.48 am.** _

_**Today the Housemates have been given their final shopping task. At intervals throughout the day Big Brother will play songs into the house. If the song has the word 'wolf' in the title, housemates must immediately go to the dance floor that has been installed in the garden, and dance for the duration of the song. If the song does not have 'wolf' in the title, they must ignore it. If any housemate fails to dance when required, or dances when they are not supposed to, they will accumulate penalty points. If the housemates accumulate more than fifty penalty points, they will fail the task.** _

_**Stiles and Derek are in the living area, having a cuddle.** _

Stiles lies on the wolf sofa, Derek's body draped half on top of him like a warm, muscly blanket. Derek's hand is under his shirt, fingers playing over his hip, and they kiss, slow and lazy, his mouth soft, and Stiles is very happily melting.

The speakers in the ceiling hiss for a few tell-tale seconds before the music starts. Stiles tenses and Derek raises his head.

"Please, no wolves," says Stiles. "No way can I hide this boner if we have to go out and dance."

He has never been more pleased to hear the Macarena in his life.

*

**_11.05 am. Big Brother has called the housemates to the sofas to hear the results of this week's nominations._ **

Stiles kisses Derek one last, lingering time before dragging himself over to what was once the hunters' sofa. He tends to think of it as Scott's sofa now. As he takes his place at Scott's right hand side (Lydia's on his left), it's starkly obvious how few of them are left. Just the three of them on this side and Derek, Peter and the Twins on the other. Really, the Twins are on a side all of their own, and Peter has been a wild card from day one. Stiles wants to grab Derek and bring him over to sit with them, but he can't imagine the wolf sofa without Derek on it. 

He tries to tell himself they're just sofas, it doesn't mean anything, but he still feels that way.

_~Housemates. Yesterday you nominated for the final time. Big Brother can now reveal the results of those nominations, and who is up for eviction this week.~_

Stiles sits straight. Scott clasps his hand and Lydia's, and they wait. Stiles knows his name will be called. The Twins and Peter hate him, and he wouldn't blame Lydia if she nominated him for getting Allison evicted. She's a strategist, although it's actually been a long time since she talked about winning. Stiles glances at her, reappraising, and she smiles at him. It's a warm, genuine smile. She hasn't nominated him. She likes him.

Lydia actually likes him.

_~The housemates facing eviction this week are: ….~_

Scott squeezes his hand.

_~Peter. And….~_

"Of course," mutters Peter. He sits back and crosses his arms over his chest.

_~Aiden and Ethan.~_

The Twins nod, resigned, and Stiles waits. And waits.

And waits.

_~Peter, Aiden and Ethan, you will face the public vote this Friday. That is all.~_

Stiles jaw drops. Scott's doing the nice thing and shaking hands with the Twins (Peter has already stalked off to the Sky Room steps) and Lydia hugs him.

He's not up for eviction. He's not going home. 

To Stiles' surprise, it's bittersweet. Of course he wants to stay: there's Derek and Scott and Lydia (who likes him) and he's having fun, and God, he could make it to the final (don't think that, don't jinx it) but… it's another week, maybe two, that he won't get to see his Dad. Homesickness spears through Stiles and there's tears prickling his eyes. 

Then Derek puts his arms around him and whispers in his ear, "I'm so glad we're both staying."

The speakers hiss and Duran Duran start singing.

Twenty seconds later they're dancing their hearts out to 'Hungry Like the Wolf', and Stiles loses himself in a flail of limbs and the sheer joy of watching Peter dancing to 80s music in his stupid leather jacket, trying to look cool.

*

**_2.07pm Stiles is in the kitchen, making bread._ **

Stiles kneads his dough, humming 'The Macarena' to himself as he stretches and pummels and pushes. He wonders how people learned to do this: to grind flour, mix it with water and yeast, let it rise. How the fuck did anyone work that out? 

One floury hand is half way to his pocket to pull out his phone and google 'discovery of yeast' before he remembers its not there. His phone's not there, the Internet's not there, the wealth of human knowledge is not there. 

It's liberating and terrifying all at once. 

Stiles decides to make up his own explanation instead. He's halfway through telling himself the life story of Alfred, the first baker to spill beer in his bread mix, who happens also to be one of the world's first superheroes, when Derek comes in from the garden. He pauses to kiss Stiles' neck on his way to the fridge.

"Having fun?" Derek asks, pulling out a pink-labelled bottle marked 'energy drink'. 

"Totally. I'm making up where bread yeast comes from."

"Everything comes from Big Brother," Derek says. "You're talking like you haven't been assimilated yet."

Stiles laughs. He picks up his dough and stretches it out, checking the gluten strands. It's looking good. This could be one of his best loaves yet. He plops the dough in the mixing bowl and wipes his hands on a towel. 

Derek's leaning with his back on the fridge, taking a gulp of his drink. Stiles watches Derek's throat swallow, admires the line of his jaw, the fluttering blink of his ridiculously long eyelashes. 

"Okay?" says Derek.

"What? Yeah. Yeah, totally. I was just going to the, er, to get the, um. Yeah."

Derek raises an eyebrow.

"Tomatoes," says Stiles. 

"Ah," says Derek. "Can I get those for you?"

"That would be great. I'm still a bit," Stiles wiggles his fingers, "floury."

Derek grins and heads into the store cupboard. Stiles tips a little olive oil into a small bowl and stirs in a touch of garlic powder while eyeing the rest of the spice rack. Paprika, perhaps, or chilli? No, chilli would be too much. Nutmeg? Ginger? Paprika. Definitely paprika.

There's a noise from the Store Room. A most un-Dereky noise. You could even call it a shriek.

"Der?" Stiles puts down his spoon and goes to join Derek in the cupboard. "What is it? You're not scared of spiders, are you? Oh God, tell me it's not a spider, I can't deal with-"

Derek's pointing at a bowl. A nice, wooden bowl. It's full of something in brightly coloured foil wrappers.

Stiles blinks at it. "Is that what I think it is?"

"It's a bowl of condoms," says Derek.

"Seriously? Big Brother has one hell of a warped sense of humour." 

Suddenly the speakers start belting out the old Spice Girls hit '2 Become 1'.

"Warped doesn't even begin to cover it," says Derek. 

Stiles bites his bottom lip to keep from laughing. And dancing. It's almost impossible not to dance to the Spice Girls.

"Come on," says Derek. "I've got the tomatoes."

Stiles snags a couple of condoms from the bowl on the way out and stashes them in his back pocket.

You never know when things might come in handy, after all.

*

_**3.15pm. The housemates are in the garden, dancing to 'The Wolf' by Mumford and Sons.** _

Stiles flings himself around the dance floor with reckless abandon. It's great to get something with a bit of a rock beat to it, and he and Scott play such damn good air guitar together. Not that it wasn't fun dancing with Derek to Shakira earlier, but it was a weird song and Derek's hip action was distracting, to say the least. 

The last few bars of the song fade away and he and Scott collapse on each other, panting like they just ran a marathon.

_~All Housemates will now assemble at the sofas.~_

"I'm not disassembled," says Stiles, breathlessly. "All parts of the Stiles are present and correct."

"Sofas," says Derek, and slaps him on the ass.

Stiles squeaks.

They make their way to the living area, Scott taking a detour to the fridge to get bottles of water for everyone while they take their seats. They're all chattering and hyper from dancing. It takes three successively louder yells of _~Housemates!~_ through the speakers for Big Brother to get them quiet.

_~Housemates. Big Brother has had a delivery of letters from home~_

Suddenly it's quiet enough to hear a pin drop. Derek looks as if he hardly dare believe what he just heard. Stiles' mind floods with images of his Dad sitting at home at the dining table, scratching out a letter with a BHPD biro, or tapping at his laptop, a cold half-cup of coffee beside him, forgotten as he writes. 

Scott squeezes Stiles' hand, and he realises his eyes have filled with tears. He wipes his face on his arm. 

_~However.~_

Of course there's a however. Nothing nice ever happens round here without a fucking 'however'.

_~In order to earn their letter from home, housemates must show how well they know each other. Each housemate will be asked a question about one other housemate. If they get the question right, the housemate the question is about will receive their letter from home. If not, they will not.~_

"I don't get it," says Aiden.

"If they ask you a question about me," says Lydia, "and you get it wrong, I don't get my letter. And you die horribly."

Aiden swallows, hard. "Gotcha."

_~Stiles.~_

Of course he'd get to go first. Lovely.

_~Your question is about Scott. How did Scott get the scar on his left cheek? Was it: a: after surgery to straighten his jaw; b: the result of an emergency stop on the school bus; or c: from an indoor skateboarding accident?~_

"Indoor skateboarding accident!" Stiles and Scott high five.

_~That is correct. Scott, you will receive your letter from home.~_

"Thanks, buddy," says Scott, all big eyes and love.

_~Peter. Your question is about Lydia. What did Lydia's grandmother do for a living in the 1980s? Was she a: a computer scientist at IBM; b: a High School teacher; or c: a world champion yachtswoman?~_

"Hmm." Peter cocks his head on one side, everything about him sly and oily-looking. "Well, her mother's a High School teacher, so maybe it's hereditary. And I know Lydia's family own a boat-house." 

Lydia raises one perfect, strawberry-blonde eyebrow. 

"But I also happen to know she worked for IBM. The answer's a."

There's a long pause, during which Lydia maintains perfect, unflustered eye contact with Peter.

_~That is correct. Lydia, you will receive your letter from home.~_

Lydia smiles: a proper, unguarded, happy smile that lights up the room.

_~Aiden and Ethan. Your question is about Peter. What sports team did Peter captain in High School? Was it a: the swimming team; b: lacrosse; or c: basketball?~_

The Twins whisper urgently to each other for a moment. Stiles catches the phrases 'lacrosse is such a cool game', 'I can't imagine him doing freestyle butterfly, can you?' and 'but dude, the man's pretty ripped for his age', (which elicits a hurt look from Peter). Finally they nod at each other and say in unison, "Lacrosse."

_~That answer is incorrect. The correct answer was basketball. Peter will not receive his letter from home.~_

Peter shrugs but his face goes still, closed-off. The Twins' apology looks heartfelt, and Derek gives Peter's arm a squeeze too. Peter smiles a small, tight-lipped smile and says nothing.

_~Lydia. Your question is about Derek. What musical instrument did Derek play in the school orchestra? Was it a: the tambourine; b: the cello; or c: the triangle?~_

"Hmm." Lydia looks thoughtfully at Derek, tapping her index finger over her lips. "Well, I'm pretty sure it wasn't the cello, because he didn't do too well at all on the music round of the quiz in week two. He has a good sense of rhythm, so the tambourine is a possibility, but…. I'm gonna have to go with the triangle. C."

_~The right answer is….. c: the triangle. As Lydia answered correctly, Derek, you will receive your letter from home.~_

"Oh God, thank you, Lydia," says Derek, looking at her with watery-eyed devotion worthy of Stiles himself.

_~Scott. Your question is about Stiles. Stiles once wrote an essay on an unusual theme for a paper in an economics class. What was the topic of the essay? Was it a: -~_

"Oh, oh, I know!" Scott yells out. "Circumcision!"

_~Scott, please wait until Big Brother has read out all the answers. Was the topic a: the curse of the mountain lion in Beacon Hills; b: the sexual habits of bonobos; or c:….~_

Scott is pressing his lips firmly together, as if he's afraid he might blurt the answer out again too soon. 

_~… The history of male circumcision.~_

"C! It's definitely c, Big Brother," says Scott. "He told me that in the sand box, I thought it was the coolest, dorkiest thing ever."

_~C is the correct answer. Stiles, you will be receiving your letter from home.~_

"Yes!" Scott and Stiles jump up, high-five and sit down again in perfect unison. Everyone's laughing. 

Derek's eyebrows are all 'really, Stiles?' but his eyes are twinkling.

_~The final question is to you, Derek, and it's about the Twins. What was the twin's nickname in High School? Was it a: George and Fred; b: the terrible Twins; or c: Voltron?~_

The room goes quiet. The thing is, nobody really knows the Twins. They came late, they got into fights… somehow imagining them at school with a nickname makes them seem more human. Stiles glances at Lydia, who gives the tiniest shake of her head. If she doesn't know, how does Derek stand a chance?

Derek has a look of right out panic on his face. 

_~Derek, please give your answer.~_

Derek takes a deep breath. "I don't think it was George and Fred, because they're not… they look nothing like them. Voltron is… it's either Voltron or the other one. I'm sorry guys, I don't…"

_~Derek, please give your answer or you will fail the task.~_

Derek looks around desperately for inspiration. The Twins stare down at the carpet.

_~Derek-~_

"B. I'm going with b."

_~Derek, the correct answer was c: Voltron. You did not get the correct answer. The Twins will not receive their letter from home.~_

Derek covers his face with his hands, all the joy gone. Stiles aches for him.

_~Housemates. Everyone except for Peter and the Twins will receive their letters from home tomorrow. Thank you.~_

"It's okay," Ethan says to Derek. "Seriously, man, we're probably going home this weekend anyway." Aiden doesn't say anything, just keeps staring at the floor.

"I'm so sorry," says Derek.

And Stiles finds he’s sorry, too, just a bit. Not for Derek getting the question wrong, anyone would have - but he’s sorry for the fact that Ethan's right, they could be gone in a few days and nobody really even got to know them.

Then again, they had behaved like dicks from pretty much the moment they arrived.

Stiles goes to the wolf sofa and puts an arm around Derek's shoulder. "Not your fault," he whispers into Derek's ear. 

Scott's on Derek's other side, squeezing his shoulder. "It's cool, man. You did your best."

"I don't see why anyone should be upset about the Twins," says Peter. "They didn't get my letter for me, either. Looks pretty fair to me."

"Oh, like anyone would write to you anyway," says Lydia.

Stiles stifles a laugh on Derek's shoulder. 

Maybe Lydia and Peter don't have such a mystic bond after all.

Peter goes off grumbling into the garden, the Twins trailing after him with belated (and not particularly convincing, to Stiles' mind) apologies. 

"Thanks," Derek says. "Think I'll go to the Diary Room for a bit."

"You don't owe them anything," says Stiles. "Seriously. If it wasn't for them-"

Derek shakes his head. "It's okay, Stiles. I just need… you know."

Stiles gives him a hug, and watches him leave the living area and walk up the steps to the Diary Room. 

One day, Derek will be walking up those steps and leaving the house for good. Stiles hopes Derek goes first. He doesn't think he could bear to watch him leave.

Stiles, Lydia and Scott get up and wander into the kitchen. The washing up from lunch is still there, abandoned when they rushed out to dance to Mumford and Sons. They start to clear up, falling into a seamless washing up production line without having to say a word. Stiles gets to wash, because there's least chance of breakages. Scott dries, and Lydia puts things away, because Scott can't remember where things go. 

"Hey, how did you know about Derek playing the triangle?" Stiles asks Lydia, passing a soapy plate to Scott.

"Derek's easy," she says. "His eyebrows tell you everything you ever want to know."

Stiles snorts, and runs fresh hot water into the sink. 

Then Taylor Swift comes on the sound system, and it's a scramble for Lydia and Stiles to stop Scott from dancing.

* 

_**11.52 am. Scott and Stiles are in bed.** _

Stiles snuggles down under the covers and closes his eyes. "I'm beat, man."

"So much dancing."

"And emotion. Way too much emotion." Stiles yawns.

"Is Derek okay now?"

"Kind of not really? He's pretending to be, but I know it bothers him. It annoys the fuck out of me, because seriously, it's not his fault. I mean, Voltron, seriously? It doesn't even make sense."

"Yeah, it's a real bitch when someone you care about is beating themselves up all the time."

Scott gives him a sly little look, and Stiles burrows further under the covers. "Yeah, well, sorry," he mumbles.

Scott pulls him into a big bear hug.

And then the speakers hiss, and the music starts.

"Oh, jeez," Stiles complains. He yells at the ceiling, "Some of us are trying to sleep in here!"

"Come on, dude." Scott is already out of bed and pulling on a hoodie. Stiles' hoodie, as it happens. "Don't wanna lose the task, remember?"

Stiles drags himself out of his cosy nest, grabs the nearest warm clothing he can find and follows Scott out into the garden. 

And it's kind of magical, really. Because suddenly he's with Scott and Lydia and Derek; he's got friends he loves who don't think he's a waste of space, he's got a really hot boyfriend who tells him he looks great in his sweater, and he can keep it if he wants (when Stiles knows for a fact that Cora gave Derek this sweater and it's his favourite possession in the house), and there's twinkly fairy lights over the dance floor, he's dancing his heart out to Werewolves of London and God, he's so, so happy. He doesn't think he's ever been as happy in his life as he is right here, right now, with these people. 

"Hey, look," says Scott, pointing up at the cloudless sky. "Full moon."

It only seems right to howl.

*


	28. Week Seven: Day Forty Five

_**Day Forty Five. 9.17am.** _

_**Stiles and Derek are in the shower.** _

Stiles has seen Derek in the pool and in the rain, so he knows he looks good wet. But this is a whole new level of wet. Water is rolling down Derek's skin through a fine mist and Stiles can see actual individual droplets, because he's _that close_. He can flick his tongue over Derek's collarbones and taste the water.

So he does.

Oh God.

Derek tastes really, really good.

Stiles licks up Derek's neck and closes his lips over Derek's earlobe. The shower's pounding on his neck and Derek's stroking his back, growling deep in his throat. Then Stiles leans in and his hard dick presses against Derek's hard dick, and he gasps, clasps the back of Derek's neck, can't help rolling his hips, grinding, pushing. He knows he's making noises, but they're drowned out by the hiss of the shower. He could get off like this. God, he's _going to_ get off like this, and he really wants Derek to come too, so he slides his hand inside Derek's swimsuit and-

Derek grabs his wrist and croaks out, "Stiles, no."

Stiles pulls back immediately. Derek doesn't look angry. He looks wrecked.

"When we get out of here," Derek says, "I am going to make love to you in the shower, in my bed, on the sofa, every fucking surface in my apartment, and anywhere else you want. I'm going to make love to you for hours. For days. 'Til neither of us can stand straight. But not in here. I can't. Not…"

_Not again._

And Stiles gets it. He really does. His boner doesn't, but, well, boners are pretty single minded and Stiles' never got the hang of concepts like 'appropriate' or 'timely'. So he ignores it and wraps his wet arms around his wet Derek, and kisses him. 

"Is your shower as good as this one?" he asks.

"Better," says Derek. "Rainfall setting and it never runs out of hot water."

Stiles kisses him again. "You called it making love."

"Yeah, so? Is that a problem?"

Stiles smiles goofily at him. "So _not_ a problem."

"Idiot," says Derek, fondly.

*

_**11.15 am. Stiles is in the Diary Room, talking to Big Brother.** _

Big Brother: What will it mean to you to get your letter from home today, Stiles?

Stiles: Honestly, Girl-Bro? I'm not sure. Because obviously I miss Dad like crazy, and I really, really want to know he's okay. To have actual evidence of that, and maybe to know that he hasn't disowned me, that would be great. But I don't know what he's seen on the show, and I guess I've done some stuff I'm not proud of. So I'm a bit worried he might be disappointed in me. And I dunno, what if it makes me more homesick? But the first thing cancels all that out. I just want to know he's okay.

Big Brother: How do you think your housemates feel about getting their letters?

Stiles: Derek's been really quiet about it, because he's still feeling guilty about the Twins. Scott's stoked, and Lydia… well, I haven't a clue how Lydia feels. I guess it'll depend who it's from. She's not a big fan of her dad, in case you haven't noticed. But seriously, you get so cut off in here, you miss people so much, anything is good, really. It means a lot. I don't feel sorry for Peter not getting his, because he's totally evil, but I do feel sorry for the Twins.

Big Brother: What else are you looking forward to today, Stiles?

Stiles: I have a hectic schedule as it happens, Girl-Bro. It's my turn to make lunch with Lydia, which will be terrifying because have you seen how freakin' fast she chops things? Her knife skills are a danger to the world. She shouts orders all the time, and if you don't get things right she flays you with sarcasm. It's like working in a kitchen under some insane genius chef. And she's pissed because she's the only girl left, so she will be making my life hell, basically. After that I'm up for the next round of the shove-beer-bottle-cap tournament against Scott. He's won his last five games so I need to seriously up my commitment to the sport. And then I have a date with Derek.

Big Brother: What will you do on your date, Stiles?

Stiles: Oh, I dunno, dinner and a movie? (snorts) Nah, we're just trying for a bit of alone time in the gazebo. We try and ration it out because it would suck to be overly couply in front of the others. There's so few of us now, it's kind of obvious that we're the only couple. (pause) Wow. That's not a phrase I ever expected to say in here. I'm part of a couple. Wow.

Big Brother: Are you enjoying your time with Derek, Stiles?

Stiles: Are you enjoying asking obvious questions, Girl-Bro?

(pause) 

Big Brother: Big Brother doesn't want to keep you from your duties with Lydia in the kitchen, Stiles.

Stiles: Aw, trying to get rid of me? Don't worry, Girl-Bro, I won't take offence. (blows a kiss at the camera, and leaves)

*

**_2.15 pm. Stiles and Lydia are doing the washing up._ **

"I don't get why I have to get lunch **and** wash up," says Stiles, pouring detergent into the washing-up bowl. 

"Suck it up, Stiles," says Lydia. "It was supposed to be the Twins and Peter, but they're all in the Diary Room."

"Yeah, conveniently." Stiles turns the tap on and foam quickly fills the bowl, spilling over the sides like soapy lava.

"They'll have to do it tonight. Dinner washing up is always worse than lunchtime anyway. Especially when Scott's cooking."

It's true. Scott does not seem ever to have encountered the phrase 'clean as you go', and always leaves the kitchen littered with pans, bowls and any gadget he can think of an excuse to use. Then again, in the normal world, where there's dishwashers, it doesn't really matter. 

Stiles hears the distinctive electronic buzz of the Diary Room door unlocking, and out come Peter and the Twins. 

"Oh, how marvellous," says Peter as he slinks down the stairs. "So kind of you to do the washing up."

"Yeah," says Aiden. "Least you can do, seeing as how we're not getting our letters and you are."

"You can only milk that for so long, sweetheart," mutters Lydia. 

Stiles flicks his dishcloth and if it happens to fling suds right in Peter's stupid face, well, accidents happen. Right?

The Diary Room door buzzes again.

Stiles does a quick body count: Lydia, sudsy-Peter, Twins, Derek's in the garden talking to Scott… all present and correct. "What the…?" 

The Diary Room swings open and two girls spill out, squealing with excitement as they rush down the stairs.

"Girls! Oh my God, other girls!" Lydia rushes to meet them. Stiles ducks around a very pissed off Peter to run after her.

They're both gorgeous, and dressed in mail-person outfits. With little hats. It's delightful.

"Hi!" says Lydia. "Who are you?"

"I'm Kira and this is Malia," says the one with long, dark hair and a slightly worried expression.

"We just won Big Brother USA," says Malia. 

"Well, you did," says Kira. "I came second. Not that I mind. It's fantastic, and Malia really deserved to win."

"We've brought your letters," says Malia, waving a messenger bag. 

"Yeah, we should go and do the whole," Kira points vaguely in the direction of the living area. "Sofa thing."

Stiles doesn't know what's freaking him out more: the idea of strange people in the house, or what's in that bag. 

"Stiles, right?" says Malia. 

"Yeah. You know me?"

"Course I do, dummy! Everyone does. You're on TV, remember?"

"Oh. Oh, right, yeah." Stiles sees Scott and Derek bounding in from the garden. "Look, there's Scott and Derek. Who you also know. Um. Saw."

Malia winks at him.

Before Stiles can ask her any more questions Big Brother interrupts. 

_~Housemates. Please gather on the sofas.~_

Lydia grabs Malia and Kira by their hands and pulls them over to the sofas to sit next to Scott. Stiles takes his usual spot, which of course leaves Derek sitting with Peter and the Twins. Stiles has never been more tempted to go and sit with him, but this is tradition now. Besides, Scott might need help. He's grinning like a lunatic at Kira. 

_~Housemates. You have just met your new house guests. Kira and Malia will be staying with you until the weekend.~_

"Cool!" says Scott, mostly to Kira.

"Here we go again," Stiles mutters under his breath.

_~Big Brother has given Kira and Malia letters from home to deliver to their hosts. Each housemate receiving a letter must choose a fellow housemate to read it out loud for them. Because the Twins and Derek did not get their questions correct yesterday, the Twins will destroy Peter's letter, and Derek will destroy the Twins' letter, using the scissors provided.~_

Kira takes a large pair of scissors out of her bag and lays them on the table in front of her. She gives the occupants of the wolf sofa an apologetic smile.

_~Malia. Please deliver the first letter.~_

Malia pulls out one of the customary gold envelopes. "Scott," she says, and hands it over. 

_~Scott, please give the letter to the person you would like to read it to you.~_

Scott passes the envelope wordlessly to Stiles, his eyes big and round. 

"Of course, buddy," says Stiles. 

_~Stiles, please read Scott's letter out loud.~_

Stiles opens the envelope with shaking hands, and pulls out the single sheet of paper from inside. The writing is a bit scrawly but legible. Stiles scans to the bottom for the name. "It's from your Mom," he says.

Scott nods.

"Okay, here goes…. 

_'Hi Scott. I am so, so proud of you. You've shown everyone how kind, smart and funny you are. I watch every day and everyone at the hospital thinks you're amazing too. I'm so glad you made such a good friend in Stiles. The two of you were made for each other, although I'm not sure he's always a good influence. You've been through so much in the house, and you've just got stronger and stronger. I miss you, the house is so empty and quiet, can't wait to have you home again. Meanwhile enjoy every second and keep being the fantastic person you are. I love you. Mom xx'"_

"Oh, wow," says Scott. Stiles hugs him, feels Scott sniff into his shoulder. He hands over the letter and Scott clasps it to his heart. "My Mom's amazing."

"Must be where you get it from, buddy," says Stiles.

"She does sound lovely," says Lydia.

_~Kira. Please take out the next letter.~_

"Okay! The next letter is for…oh. It's Peter's."

_~Aiden and Ethan, as you got the question about Peter wrong, you will now cut up Peter's letter.~_

"Oh shit," says Ethan. "I'm sorry, Peter."

Peter shrugs. He watches without emotion as Ethan holds the letter and Aiden cuts it in half, in quarters, and again, and again until there's a heap of confetti in the middle of the table. Stiles can just make out writing in blue ink before Kira scoops it all back into the envelope and returns it to her bag.

_~Malia. Please deliver the next letter.~_

"Sure. It's for Lydia."

"Stiles?" says Lydia.

"Yes?" says Stiles.

"Will you read the letter?"

"Me?"

Lydia rolls her eyes. "Yes, Stiles, will you please read my letter for me?"

"Of course I will! Wow, yes! Of course!" 

Stiles opens the envelope with shaking hands, and takes out the paper. 

"'My Darling Lydia -' Um, that's what it says, I mean-"

"Read the letter, Stiles."

"Sorry.  
_'My Darling Lydia. I have been watching you every day and you are so beautiful, so brave and I am incredibly proud of you. You're the last woman standing and it's wonderful to see you make such good friends and always keep out of the drama. The Principal wants you to come back and do an alumni speech next year to tell everyone about your experiences, although you might want to miss out-'" Stiles' breath hitches, "'- the shower incident. Stiles will have to explain himself for that when we meet. Until then keep being your usual smart, capable, brilliant self, and remember I love you very, very much. Mom.'_ " 

"Thank you," whispers Lydia, her eyes full of tears. Stiles hands the letter over and she kisses his cheek. 

He may never wash that cheek again. 

_~Kira. Please deliver the next letter.~_

Kira plunges her hand back in her bag. "It's the Twins'. I'm so sorry. I keep getting all the bad ones."

She looks genuinely upset, and Scott flashes her a sympathetic look.

Kira hands Derek the letter and the scissors. His hands are shaking as he takes them.

_~Derek should now destroy the Twin's letter.~_

Derek stares fixedly at the letter as he cuts it up. Ethan murmurs, "I think it was from Kali," and Stiles has no idea who that is, but it's clearly someone important to both of them, judging by the way they're clinging to each others' hands as they watch their letter be reduced to scraps. When he's done Derek sinks back on the sofa, covering his face with his hands. 

_~Malia. Please deliver the next letter.~_

Malia pulls it slowly out of her bag. "It's for Derek."

"I don't want it," says Derek. "It's not right."

"Derek, you have to," says Stiles. "Come on, man, it's not your fault they didn't get theirs."

"It's cool," says Ethan. "You can read it. It's fine."

"Okay. Can I have it?"

Malia hesitates. "You need to say who's going to-"

Derek snatches it from her hand, and grabs the scissors before anyone can stop him. 

"Derek, no!" Stiles and Scott scramble over the table to stop him, but they're too late. He shakes them both off, scoops up the bits of letter and runs to the bin. Stiles reaches him just in time to see him push them down into the mess of eggshells and coffee grounds. 

_~This is Big Brother. Will Derek, Stiles and Scott please return to the sofas.~_

"It was the right thing to do," Derek murmurs. "It's not fair that they didn't get theirs."

"Shit, man," says Stiles. "That's such bullshit, you know? They asked you a stupid question you had no way of knowing."

"It's okay, Stiles." Derek takes his usual place in the middle of the wolf sofa, and avoids Stiles' gaze.

"It's really not," says Stiles, reluctantly sitting down.

_~Kira. Please deliver your last letter.~_

"Yay I get to deliver a happy one! Stiles, who do you want to read this?"

For a second Stiles considers ripping his up in solidarity with Derek. But he couldn't. Not in a million years. "Scott?"

"It's an honour," says Scott, and takes the envelope from Kira.

Stiles thinks maybe Scott winked at her.

Scott opens the letter and carefully unfolds it. Stiles catches a glimpse of Beacon Hills Police Department letterhead, and his heart pounds in his chest.

"Okay buddy?" says Scott.

Stiles nods.

"Right.  
_'Stiles, you're doing great. We all miss you here. The house sure is quiet, but I'm keeping myself busy eating red meat and fries. (Just kidding!) There's been another couple of animal attacks out in the woods to keep us busy, and a new Deputy just arrived in Beacon Hills which is making things easier. Everyone down at the station has been watching and thinks you're doing great. I had an email from your old primary school teacher, Mrs Docherty, the day they aired you doing all those pranks - she seemed to think it was evidence that it really was you who put live bugs in Chelsea's locker in third grade. I denied everything, but seriously, one day you might have to own up to that one, kid. I know it's been hard for you sometimes, but you wouldn't believe the amount of support you've got back home. I'm glad you've got Derek to take care of you. Tell him he's coming round for dinner when you get back, okay? I'm proud of you, son. And your mom would be proud of you, too. Love, Dad'"_

Stiles is in bits. He's crying big snotty tears and when Scott gives him the letter he clutches it to his heart. He can picture his Dad writing it, sat at his desk in the station; he can imagine the smell of his aftershave and the feel of his warm arms around him, and he aches for the lack of them.

"They weren't bugs when I put then in the locker," he mumbles, scrubbing tears off his face. "I was six. I didn't know that's what happened to live fishing bait."

He sniffs loudly, and then there are arms around him - lots of arms, Derek's and Scott's and Lydia's - and he sinks gratefully into them.

*

_**3.30 pm. Derek has gone to the Diary Room to talk to Big Brother. Stiles is in the living area with Scott, Malia and Kira.**_

A subdued atmosphere has fallen over the house since the letters arrived. Peter's on the Sky Room steps, the Twins are outside in the smoking area and Lydia has gone to run a bath. Malia and Kira are friendly and nice, and Scott is going out of his way to welcome them. If it was anyone else Stiles might suspect this was just because Scott is all googley-eyed over Kira, but this is Scott, and Stiles knows he'd be nice to anyone. Everyone. Even when they're not good for him. 

So Stiles is hanging around too, to make sure Scott doesn't get himself in trouble. 

"I hope our suitcases arrive soon," says Kira. "These uniforms are kind of itchy."

"The hat's cute, though," says Scott.

Kira tips her hat to a jaunty angle, and she and Scott giggle.

Malia rolls her eyes at Stiles. He winks at her.

"That was brutal," Malia says. "Making them cut up the letters like that."

"Yeah," says Stiles, his gaze drifting to the bin where Derek's letter ended up. 

And then he has an idea. 

He goes to the bin and starts fishing out the soggy bits of paper, aware that Malia's with him, watching him curiously. He spreads out paper towels on the kitchen counter and puts the pieces of the letters carefully on them.

"He'll probably just throw it back in the bin," says Malia.

"I know. I'm not going to give it to him. Keep watch, okay? Let me know if he comes out of the Diary Room."

Stiles carefully cleans up each piece of paper, brushing off the coffee grounds and wiping away bits of fuck-knows-what, blotting the wet parts. Then he starts to put the whole thing back together, like a giant jig-saw puzzle. The ink hasn't run too much, thank God. 

"What are you doing?" says Malia.

"Shh. Just let me know when he comes out of that door."

Stiles concentrates as hard as he can for the next few minutes, until Malia hisses urgently, "Stiles!" and he hears the Diary Room door open. He scoops up the letter and dumps it back in the bin a second before Derek emerges onto the stairs.

If Derek's surprised by the flailing Stiles that runs up to meet him half way and fling itself at him, he doesn't let it show.

*

**_11.47 pm. The welcome party for Kira and Malia is over, and the housemates are getting ready for bed._ **

Scott and Kira are necking on Scott and Stiles' bed, but Stiles doesn't mind. It gives him the perfect excuse. He's been trying to get Derek alone since that afternoon, but the opportunity has stubbornly eluded him. It's easy, now, to come back from the bathroom and slip under Derek's duvet. 

"Hello, Stiles," says Derek. 

His eyebrows demand to know what Stiles is doing in Derek's bed all of a sudden.

"There's girl cooties on my bed," says Stiles. "Alright if I hide in here for a bit, snuggle-wolf?"

"Snuggle-wolf? Seriously?"

"Whatever. I've been meaning to talk to you, anyway."

"What about?" Derek pulls Stiles in close, and kisses his nose. It tickles.

"You and your martyr complex."

"I do not have a martyr complex."

"See, that's just what you'd expect a martyr to say."

"That makes no sense, Stiles."

"Whatever. Point is, you had every right to get your letter today."

"Don't, Stiles. It's done now. I can't go back and change what I did."

"Well, that's where you're wrong, snuggle-wolf. Now lie back and get comfy."

"Why?"

"I'm gonna tell you a bedtime story."

"What?"

"You'll love it, I promise. I learned it this afternoon. Go on, lie back. Let's get you all tucked in."

Stiles pulls the comforter up to their chins and squeaks as Derek pulls him in close. He wriggles onto his side, his head on Derek's shoulder, and whispers.

"Are you ready?"

"So long as it's not Little Red Riding Hood. I always felt that was really mean to the wolf."

"The wolf who was trying to eat up the little girl? Yes, Derek, shockingly unfair to wolves. Now shut up and listen."

Derek lets out a deep breath, and closes his eyes.

"Dear Derek."

Derek tenses, but Stiles keeps right on going.

"Being in the Big Brother house was always my dream, but it turns out it was really made for you. I know you only did it for me, but look at where it's taken you. I can hardly believe you're the same person that I had to guilt-trip into going into the house with me. Mom says the same, she says you've blossomed, whatever that means. Oh, and Mom says hi, so does Laura and Taylor and the cub. They're all dying to meet Stiles, although Mom says she is going to ban the pair of you from the pantry. 

I miss you, Der, I can't wait for you to come out and at the same time I want you to enjoy every minute you have left in there. Say hi to Lydia and Scott and Stiles. I love you so much. Best big brother ever.  
Cora."

Derek doesn't say anything, just presses his face into Stiles' neck and holds Stiles incredibly tight for a long, long time. Eventually, just when Stiles is about to protest that it's getting hard to breathe, and he is quite a fan of oxygen, Derek says, "Thank you."

"No problem. Your mom sounds nice."

"Yeah. Yeah, she is."

"And you have a cub? What's that, like a pet bear, or something?"

"My baby brother," says Derek. He noses behind Stiles' ear. "Laura's my big sister, then there's me, then Cora, then Taylor and then Lincoln, but we call him cub."

"And your Dad….?"

"Died when I was sixteen."

"My mom died when I was eight."

Derek held him tighter still and said, "I know. Scott said."

"God, there's so much I still don't know about you."

"I'm a man of mystery," says Derek.

The lights go out. Stiles blinks into the darkness until his eyes adjust; he can make out shapes on his and Scott's bed - or rather, shape. Just Scott. Kira's on her way over the the bed she's sharing with Malia. 

"Hurry up, it's cold," says Malia. "And don't trip up, you don't need another trip to the emergency room for a sprained ankle."

"I'm fine, I just-"

There's a thud.

"Oops," says Kira. "I'm okay!"

"You sure?" says Scott.

"I'm fine! Just getting into bed now."

"Your feet are like ice," says Malia.

Stiles laughs. He wishes Malia and Kira could have been here longer. They'd have been a lot more fun than stupid Peter.

"D'you want to stay?" says Derek.

Stiles peers at him in the dark; he can just catch the glint of his eyes, the outline of his face. "Yes," he says. "But I'm not going to. You'll be surprised to know I can, occasionally, exhibit self-control."

"I'm amazed," says Derek.

"Will you be okay here on your own? You could come and snuggle with me and Scott if you want," says Stiles.

"What?" says Scott, from their bed.

"Thanks, but no," says Derek. "I'm fine here. I think I might just run that bedtime story over in my head until I fall asleep."

Stiles kisses him, and drags himself back to his bed.

"Are we all done moving about now?" says Lydia.

"Yes, yes," says Stiles. "G'night everyone!"

There's a chorus of goodnights and then Stiles says to the ceiling, "Good night Big Brother."

_~Goodnight, housemates. Sleep well.~_

*


	29. Week Seven: Day Forty Nine

_**Day Forty Nine. 9.18 am.** _

_**Yesterday the housemates got their letters from home.** _

_**Stiles and Derek are in the Diary Room.** _

Stiles: (sitting on Derek's lap) Yo Big Bro.

Big Brother: Good morning Stiles. Good morning Derek.

Stiles: Yay, it's Girl-Bro! I love you, Girl-bro!

Big Brother: Big Brother loves you too, Stiles.

Derek: Should I leave you guys alone or something?

Big Brother: Big Brother loves all the housemates, Derek.

Stiles: (stage whispering to Derek) She has to say that, but she loves me the best, you can tell.

Big Brother: What can Big Brother do for you this morning?

Derek: We wanted to say thank you.

Stiles: For the letters from home.

Big Brother: What did you like best about your letters?

Stiles: Finding out my Dad was okay. I mean, unless you forged the letters, but nah, because nobody could copy his handwriting that well. I'd know. I'm good with handwriting.

Derek: I'm really pleased to know Cora's happy for me. And that everyone's okay.

Stiles: And nobody mentioned the whole store cupboard thing.

Derek: Actually my mother did. Unless you made that part up?

Stiles: I didn't make any of it up! Big Brother, tell him, I got it word perfect, didn't I?

Big Brother: Stiles is correct, Derek, he memorised your letter word for word.

Derek: In that case my mother definitely mentioned the store cupboard. The pantry, remember?

Stiles: Oh God! That was… oh! But not in a bad way, right? It sounded as though she was joking, yeah? Oh God, please tell me she was joking.

Derek: Put it this way, you'd have known for certain if she'd been mad.

Stiles: Thank God for that.

Big Brother: Derek, are you pleased that Stiles read you your letter in the end?

Derek: Yes, I am. I'm still not sure I deserved it, but it was a really sweet thing to do.

Stiles: Yeah, yeah, you're the big bad wolf who blew down the Twins' house or whatever. They're over it already.

Derek: But Peter said-

Stiles: Nonono, we've talked about this. We do not trust Peter, okay?

Derek: I never said I trusted him.

Stiles: (frowns at Derek)

Derek: Seriously. I don't trust him. I know he's done some mean things. Have you ever heard the phrase 'keep your friends close, and your enemies closer?'

Stiles: Of course.

Derek: Well then. If Peter knows you hate him, he's not going to tell you his evil masterplan, is he?

Stiles: He would in the movies.

Derek: This isn't the movies, Stiles.

Stiles: Has he told you his evil masterplan?

Derek: Well, no, not yet. But he might, any day now.

Stiles: I rest my case. What d'you think, Big Bro? Is Peter an evil genius mastermind?

Big Brother: How will you feel if Peter's evicted today?

Stiles: (jumps up and dances around) Woohoo, yay, party time!

Derek: (laughs)

Big Brother: What about you, Derek?

Derek: I think the Twins deserve a second chance. They got off to a bad start.

Big Brother: Big Brother admires your diplomacy, Derek.

Stiles: (bounces back onto Derek's lap) Hey, you never pay me compliments like that, Big Bro.

Big Brother: Big Brother enjoys your exuberance, Stiles.

Stiles: See, now that wasn't so hard, was it?

Big Brother: Is there anything else Big Brother can do for you, Stiles or Derek?

Derek: No, thank you.

Stiles: Hey! I might wanna talk some more.

Derek: I thought you were gonna make bread? There was the whole thing about showing Malia your kneading technique?

Stiles: Oh, yeah, you're right. Sorry, Big Bro. Bread waits for no man. Or woman.

Big Brother: Have a nice day, housemates.

Stiles and Derek: (get up and prepare to leave the Diary Room)

Big Brother: Oh, and Stiles?

Stiles: Yo?

Big Brother: Don't forget the sun dried tomatoes. 

Derek: Thanks, Big Brother.

Big Brother: Derek, Big Brother always has the best interests of the housemates at heart.

*

**1.55 pm. The housemates are in the garden.**

Aiden and Ethan are sitting on a bench poolside, with their tops off. Peter claimed the toplessness is purely to try and get themselves saved from eviction, but it is really hot today, and they're the only ones not in the cool, refreshing water. Apart from Peter, of course, who is on the Sky Room steps, wearing dark glasses and thinking about how cool he looks. Or planning evil, Stiles can never tell which. 

Stiles, Scott and Kira are at one end of the pool; Derek, Malia and Lydia the other. There's a string of tied-together socks across the middle of the pool, secured under a rock on either side. Scott is holding an inflated condom.

Stiles knew those would come in handy.

The condom has water inside, just enough to give it a bit of weight and mess with the balance. It has 'I am a volleyball' written on it in lipstick, because Lydia thinks she's funny. 

Aiden whistles and says in a surprisingly good announcer-voice, "And here we are, ladies and gentlemen, at the world's first Big Brother Swimming Pool Games. I think we're set to see quite the match here at the water-volleyball. What do you reckon, Ethan?"

"I'd say the sides are pretty evenly matched, Aiden. On the one side we have the brains of Lydia Martin and the brawn of Derek Hale, on the other we have True Alpha Scott McCall and his trusty sidekick Stiles 'You Couldn't Pronounce My First Name' Stilinski."

"You couldn't! Trust me!" yells Stiles.

"There's an unknown on each team: Malia Tate, winner of Big Brother USA 2015, and Kira Yukimura, who once played lacrosse in High School."

"Seriously?" says Scott, beaming. "I love lacrosse!" They high-five splashily.

"The question of fitness has to be raised, Ethan," says Aiden. "We know that Hale has recovered physically from his devastating injury in week five, but are there likely to be mental scars?"

"Only time will tell, Ethan. Let's get this game underway. Hale pack, are you ready?"

Derek, Malia and Lydia wave yes. 

"McCall pack, are you ready?"

Stiles, Derek and Kira wave. "Why pack?" Kira whispers. "Why not team?"

"There's this whole wolf thing going on," says Stiles. "At least there was, back in week one, and certain people like to keep it going."

"Don't blame me," says Scott. "It was Derek's idea."

"Yeah, whatever. Come on, True Alpha, serve the condom."

"And… play!" yells Aiden.

Scott throws the condom in the air and delivers a resounding punch, which sends it forcefully over the net. Derek intercepts and blasts it straight back; Stiles half misses, half leaps out of the way and ends up with a mouthful of chlorinated water, but Kira leaps out of the pool like a dolphin and head buts it neatly back into Hale territory.

Malia and Derek both go for the save but it's too high, too fast, and it lands in the far corner of the pool where it floats triumphantly, it's plump little teat spinning around in a victory dance.

"Now that's what I call volleycondom, don't you Aiden?" says Ethan.

"That's the essence of the sport right there, Ethan. If this form continues we are in for a treat this afternoon."

"We sure are, Aidan. We sure are."

*

_**4.42 pm. Stiles and Scott are in the bathroom, washing socks.** _

They're standing by the bath in their bathing suits, and it's a lot chillier than it was outside. Stiles has goosebumps. 

"This whole washing thing is stupid, when you think about it," Scott says. "They've been in the pool all afternoon, soaking in bleach. They're probably cleaner than if they'd come straight out of a washing machine."

"Okay," says Stiles, struggling with a knot in the great chain of socks he's dismantling. "First of all, it's not bleach, it's chlorine. That's an entirely different thing. If the pool was full of bleach the socks would be the last of our problems."

"Chlorine is a kind of bleach." Scott frowns, and sniffs the sock in his hand. "Smells kinda like bleach."

"And that's the other thing. They stink. Nobody wants to go into eviction night wearing socks that smell like a swimming pool, Scott."

"We could not wear any at all." Scott drops another sock into the bath with a loud splash.

"Now, now, that's not the Big Brother spirit. Surely you're not being a sore loser? Because you and I both know that last shot was out, whatever the stupid Twins say."

"No, it's not that." Scott fiddles with the fluffy pink edges of the next sock. It's Lydia's, from the angels and demons task the other week, and boy, doesn't that just bring back memories.

She had wings. Actual pink, fluffy wings. And a halo.

Stiles had never seen such a pissed-off angel in his life.

"What's up, bro? C'mon, you can tell your ol' buddy Stiles."

"Oh, I dunno. It's just… it was really good today. I mean, really good, right?"

"Yeah, it was fun. So?"

"My boss at the animal clinic has this thing he says. He says it's about regression to the mean."

"What is?"

"Life, I guess. It's like, things never stay all good, or all bad. They always come back to the middle."

"Huh. Yeah, I can see that."

"So, the past few days, since Malia and Kira got here and we had the letters - it's been really good. Aiden and Ethan have chilled out, we've all been getting along - even Peter's not been stirring it."

"That we know of," said Stiles, wrenching the next sock out of its knot. 

"But tonight's eviction night. Somebody's going to go home. What if Kira and Malia go too? What if we get some awful task where we're supposed to be mean to each other? What if it gets really bad again?"

"Yeah, you're forgetting one thing here, Scott."

"What's that?"

"We're nearly at the end, man. In seven days we'll be packing our bags for good, and it'll just be a matter of who walks out the door last. For those who make it that far, even. This time two weeks ahead, we'll all be home."

Scott looks down, his fist curling around Lydia's angel sock like it's something precious. "It'll be over."

"Yeah. End of the show, hello normality."

"Regression to the mean," Scott murmurs.

Stiles waits for a moment, watching him. 

Then he smacks him on the arm with a wet sock. 

"C'mon, dude. We've got a lot of socks to de-chlorinate before we get to the next eviction, never mind next week."

Scott laughs, and lobs Lydia's sock at Stiles' face. There's a bit of grappling and they both land in the tub with a loud splash.

"I'm gonna Skype you so hard when we get out of here," Stiles says, still mildly slapping at Scott's arm with the sock.

"You'd better," says Scott.

He's dripping wet and grinning his head off. It lights up his eyes and Stiles drinks it all in, freezes it in his mind like a photograph, so he can remember it forever.

*  
**_9.33 pm. Tonight's live eviction is about to take place._**

The sofas feel full again. Malia's joined Derek, the Twins and Peter on the wolf sofa. Stiles sits between Scott and Lydia, Kira on Scott's other side. For the first time Stiles can be fairly certain (Big Brother fuckery notwithstanding) that someone he unreservedly nominated will leave. But it's not as easy as he'd anticipated. If Peter goes, great, fantastic, bring on the party. But the Twins…. They've had a fun day, and he's surprised how much he likes them. Peter says it's all for the cameras, and maybe it is (although seriously, Peter, way to tell the public how to vote). But whatever the reason it's been awesome, and the Twins played their part. Now they look nervous and sad, and Stiles can't enjoy this nearly as much as he thought he would.

_~Big Brother House, this is Emma.~_

"Hi, Emma!" They all wave at the ceiling, where her voice is coming from.

_~ Peter. Aidan and Ethan. The viewers have spoken, your fate is sealed.~_

There's a lot of boos and not much else, except that Stiles is pretty sure he hears 'Evict Evil Peter!' and hopes it's an omen.

_~Since Wednesday the British public have been voting to evict. I can now reveal that the housemate with the most votes, and the seventh to be evicted, is….~_

The crowd is louder now, and 'Evict Evil Peter' becomes a chant. Peter rolls his eyes. The Twins are holding hands, sitting so close together that they actually look like the one single being Big Brother treats them as.

Time stretches, Stiles counts. 

It goes longer than usual. He's up to ten seconds, and it feels like forever.

_~…The Twins.~_

Shit. 

_~Ethan and Aiden. You have lost your place in the Big Brother House. You have thirty seconds to say your goodbyes.~_

The farewell is brief and measured compared to the usual shock and hysteria, but the hugs are a lot more genuine than they would have been a few days ago. Mostly Stiles feels sorry for Lydia: she's said goodbye to most of her close friends in the house already, and she really liked Aiden. Stiles feels incredibly lucky to still have Lydia, Scott and Derek here. 

Ethan and Aiden climb the stairs to the mysterious blur of noise and lights that the outside world has become, and Lydia stands at the bottom, arms wrapped around herself, looking suddenly small and vulnerable.

Stiles takes her in his arms, and gently strokes her strawberry-blonde hair.

*

**_10.45 pm. It's one hour and five minutes since the Twins were evicted from the Big Brother House. Stiles, Lydia and Derek are in the living room with Scott._ **

"It feels weird," says Scott, fiddling with the stem of his wine glass. "I mean, this is it, right? It's just us for the final week."

"I guess," says Stiles. 

"I don't think that's it," says Lydia. "I think there's going to be another eviction before the final."

"You mean tonight could be a double?" says Stiles. "Peter could go after all?"

"Not now," says Scott. "They gave us alcohol. They never evict anyone after we've had alcohol."

"Lydia's right, though," says Derek. "Look at the pictures."

Stiles looks up at the row of pictures at the top of the wall opposite. So many of them dimmed to greyscale, just the five of them left in colour, and Kira and Malia in purple. All the grey ones are labelled by exit: evicted, ejected, walked…. "Scott's right," Stiles says. "Peter's doesn't say nominated any more. It's blank, like ours."

"More than that," Derek says. "It doesn't say 'finalist' under any of them. Cora said when you're down to the final group, they get labelled 'finalist'."

"That's true," says Lydia. "I told you, no-one's safe yet."

"I guess Kira and Malia will be going too, at some point," says Scott. "D'you think they'll let us keep them 'til the last day?"

"Doubt it, dude," says Stiles. "But look at it this way. This time next week-"

"Or earlier," says Lydia.

"- Or earlier, we'll be reunited with them."

"And with everyone else." Lydia takes a sip of Prosecco. "Including Allison."

"And Isaac," Scott says.

"All of them," says Derek.

"Just seven days to go," says Stiles. "And it'll all be over."

They shuffle closer to each other, and stare up at the faces on the board in silence.

Seven days to go.

*


	30. Week Eight: Day Fifty Two

_**Day Fifty Two.** _

_**As this is the last week in the Big Brother house, there is no shopping task. However, Big Brother is going to set the Housemates one final challenge. And the stakes are high.** _

_**9.15 am. Some of the housemates are having breakfast.** _

"Oh my God, Stiles," says Kira. "This is amazing. How long have you been making bread?"

Stiles shrugs. "I do it at home sometimes, but here? I dunno. Since about week three? Whenever we first failed the shopping task."

"We only won two tasks the whole time in our house," says Malia. "And nobody could make bread. I was starving, like, _constantly._ "

"Your housemates don't know how lucky they are, Stiles," says Kira.

"Oh, some of us do," says Derek, spreading butter lovingly (Stiles thinks) over his soft, springy slice of what Stiles calls his 'cloud loaf'. 

"You should go on Celebrity Bake Off," says Kira.

"Okay, first, I'm not a celebrity, and second, what the fuck is a bake off?"

"It's a show here," says Malia. "We were marathoning it in the hotel."

"It's awesome," says Kira. "They have to make all this patisserie and stuff no-one's heard of."

"And you are a celebrity," says Malia. "You wait 'til you get out."

Stiles looks down at his plate, his stomach fluttering wildly. He just wants to get back to Beacon Hills. Malia and Kira have gushed constantly about the parties and photo-shoots and the tabloids, and it terrifies him. 

"It's different for us," says Derek. "This is a British show. Nobody back home will have been watching it."

Kira and Malia raise eyebrows at each other. Stiles decides to ignore that.

"Hey, Malia," he says. "Is that really Marmite you're putting on that bread?"

"Yep," says Malia, and pops a bit in her mouth. "Mmmmm."

"That's obscene," says Stiles. "I refuse to make bread for you ever again."

"I'll steal Kira's," says Malia.

She probably would.

You have to have a ruthless streak to win Big Brother, after all.

*

_**10.10 am. Stiles has been called to the Diary Room.** _

Stiles: (runs into Diary Room, collapses panting into chair)

Big Brother: Hello, Stiles.

Stiles: (gasping) Yo bro-bro…. Hang on a minute… out of breath.

(pause)

Stiles: Those stairs are going to be the death of me. 

Big Brother: Are you all right, Stiles?

Stiles: (sits up a bit straighter, breathing evening out) Yeah, yeah, I'm all good. I guess hanging out on the sofa all day isn't good for the fitness levels, you know? But I ran anyway. Because I knew how much you were dying to see me.

Big Brother: Big Brother appreciates the swiftness of your appearance in the Diary Room, Stiles.

Stiles: Well, you're welcome, Bro-Bro. So. What did you want with this gorgeous specimen of a Stiles this morning?

Big Brother: Stiles, today Big Brother will be giving housemates a number of tests. The first test is for you, and it is about to start. To your left you will find a glass board and some marker pens. 

Stiles: (turns to look and double-takes) Oh, hey, where did all that come from?

Big Brother: On the shelf underneath the board is a packet. In the packet are a series of clues to help you solve the mystery of the Benefactor. You have thirty minutes, Stiles, to read and assess the clues. You may also ask Big Brother ten - but only ten - questions relating to the case. When the thirty minutes is up you will be asked who the Benefactor is, and you will have sixty seconds to give a full and reasoned answer. If your answer is deemed correct and well evidenced by Big Brother you will gain fifty points. If your answer is correct but not backed up by your argument and evidence, you will gain ten points. If your answer is wrong, you will not gain any points.

Stiles: Okay. And what are the points for?

Big Brother: Big Brother will explain the purpose of the points system works at a later stage. Meanwhile Big Brother suggests you get as many points as you can.

Stiles: Fair enough. Okay then, let's get the show on the road.

Big Brother: Your thirty minutes start…. now.

*

Stiles eagerly opens the packet and spills its contents out on the floor. He reads quickly, scanning everything once before he starts making notes on the glass board - which is freaking awesome, by the way, he wants one for his room at home - taping up the bits of evidence as he goes. It's a complex story and soon he hits a dead-end. It's tempting to start firing off questions, but he stops himself - as his Dad has told him a million times, it's about asking the right questions at the right time. So he sections off half the board and draws a head in the middle with 'who is the benefactor?' written on it. And then he starts to think.

It feels like a long time since he had a puzzle to solve, and Stiles loves it. He feels his brain start to whirr as he processes possibilities and weighs up likelihoods, looking again and again at the connections he's sure of so that he can fill in the gaps. 

It's a story about a heist. Big Brother has used the Housemates' names, because Big Brother is hilarious. Peter is the victim of a robbery. (Probably because Big Brother likes to mess with Stiles' head by making Peter the good guy.) The money from the robbery is being used to assassinate people. There's a hit list in the evidence pile, which has several familiar names on it - Derek, Scott, Jackson, Malia and a few other housemates - but also some made-up ones. Peter's name isn't on it, but neither is Stiles', nor Danny's, nor Kate's. Which indicates his suspects.

Stiles is very thorough. He even puts his own name up, because his dad always says rigour is everything. 

And he puts Peter's up because he doesn't trust him, not even in a fictional scenario.

_Especially_ not in a fictional scenario.

*

_**10.45 am. Stiles has been in the Diary Room working on the case for twenty five minutes.** _

Stiles: (puts cap on his pen with a loud click) Done!

Big Brother: Are you sure you don't wish to take more time? There are still five minutes left.

Stiles: (stands back, surveying the glass board) Nope, I'm all finished. 

Big Brother: Very well. Please tell Big Brother whom you think the Benefactor is, and why.

Stiles: First of all, let me take you back in time, Big Brother, when Peter Hale - (Stiles taps an evidence sheet on the board) was in hospital in a coma at the same time as a certain Meredith Walker….

*

_**10.55 am. Stiles has been in the Diary Room sharing his deductive reasoning with Big Brother for ten minutes.** _

Stiles: … and that brings us to one inevitable conclusion. 

Big Brother: And what is your conclusion, Stiles?

Stiles: It was Peter. Peter Hale, in the hospital, with the mind-meld.

(pause)

Big Brother: Stiles, that was the….

(pause)

Big Brother: …. Correct answer. You have received full marks, and bank 50 points. Congratulations.

Stiles: (punches the air) Yes! Yes. I was right, seriously?

Big Brother: You were right, Stiles.

Stiles: (beaming) My dad is gonna be so proud.

Big Brother: Big Brother is proud of you, too, Stiles.

*

_**1.45 pm. The housemates have been gathered on the sofas so that Big Brother can tell them more about today's task.** _

_~Housemates. This morning Big Brother set the housemates a series of personal challenges as part of today's 'weakest link' task. Housemates were awarded points for success in each of these challenges, and can add to their total in two further stages of the task._

_At the end of the final task, the housemate with the least points will be named the 'weakest link' and will leave the house.~_

A rumble of dismay rolls across the sofas, and suddenly everyone is taking this very, very seriously.

_~The houseguests will not take part in the tests, and are asked not to provide any help with any of the challenges. Instead they will act as Big Brother's assistants and be impartial throughout.~_

"Shit," says Stiles. 

_~Housemates will now go into the garden, where the general knowledge quiz will take place.~_

The shutters come up to reveal five podiums in the garden, each with a red button on the top. Everyone makes their way outside and takes their places. The podiums are labelled with housemates' names, and Stiles and Scott are next to each other. Stiles remembers the sandpit right back on that very first task; he and Scott share a smile and a nod.

It seems like a lifetime ago, that sandpit.

Once they're all stationed behind their big red button, the quiz begins. Stiles is fine - he's surprised how much general knowledge he actually remembers, and although he loses a couple of points by going off on a tangent once or twice, his wacky memory for mythology and weird facts saves the day. Lydia gets every single question right, and Derek and Peter do pretty well too, although Peter falls down a bit on a geology question and a couple of pop music ones. Scott is really unlucky. Stiles knows that Scott missed a lot of school because of his asthma, and the questions that land on him hit exactly those spots of history and chemistry he failed in sophomore year. It's a bit of a train wreck, to be honest, and by the end Stiles is panicking on Scott's behalf.

If the fear in Scott's eyes is anything to go by, Scott is panicking on Scott's behalf too.

_~That concludes this part of today's task. Housemates should now return to the house.~_

"I don't see why someone has to go," says Kira. "It seems really mean. You could all stay 'til the final."

"They don't want the ratings to die off in the last week," says Malia. "A surprise eviction always gets the viewers onside."

"That doesn't mean it's fair, though," says Kira.

"Still true," says Malia, with a shrug.

"Did this happen on your show?" Stiles asks.

"Yes," says Kira. "There was an endurance task and, well…."

"My sister," says Malia, and turns to go inside.

*

**_3.12 pm. Stiles and Scott are doing push-ups in the living area._ **

Stiles' arms are like wet spaghetti, he thinks maybe his shoulders are making grinding noises, and he kind of wants to puke, so he collapses in a heap and looks up pathetically at Derek. "How many was that, big guy?"

"Eight," says Derek. His eyebrows look displeased.

"C'mon, keep going," says Scott. "See if you can get to ten."

"Haha, no." Stiles rolls over onto his back, and waves at Derek. "Help me up?"

Derek rolls his eyes, but a hand appears for him to hang on to as he pulls himself to his feet. 

"I'll just get some water, then I'll be fine. I'm thinking little and often is better for muscle development, right?"

Malia drops down in Stiles' place and gives Derek twenty in the time it takes Scott to do another twelve. It's impressive. 

Stiles is a teeny bit jealous, but he's not quite sure who of. All of them, maybe. 

Stupid wolves.

"In our show she rode an exercise bike for ten hours straight, to earn us the power for our electrical appliances on eviction night," says Kira.

"Ten hours?"

"We needed a lot of hair-straightening. The night before was an eighties night."

Stiles is still trying to figure that one out when the great voice in the sky interrupts them to send them back to the sofas.

*

_**3.33 pm. The Housemates have been assembled on the sofas for the next part of Big Brother's Weakest Link Task.** _

_~Housemates. For the next stage of the task, each housemate will be given a two part challenge. The first part of the challenge is to solve a puzzle. A word or phrase will appear on the plasma screen with its letters scrambled. Housemates must work out the answer to the anagram. This will give a clue to a person who's important to that housemate. Each housemate will start the game with sixty points, and lose a point for each second that ticks down before they get the correct answer to their puzzle. If a housemate fails to guess the correct person at the end of sixty seconds, they will lose ten points from their current total._

_Housemates, there is a lot at stake. This is an elimination round. The four housemates with highest points totals at the end of this round will be safe, but the two with the fewest points will go on to the next round to compete for the last place in the final.~_

Stiles gives Scott a pat on his shoulder. "You'll be fine, buddy. Take a deep breath, clear your head."

_~Stiles. You will go first.~_

The plasma screen flutters into life, showing a clock on one side and a video on the other, paused on the Big Brother logo.

"Holy shit. Okay. Right." Stiles blinks at the screen. Sixty seconds is going to be no time at all.

An annoying tune starts playing and letters form on the screen: HUB BLAB BET. 

What the fuck? Hub whatnow? Okay, think backwards. Tebbalbbuh. Maybe not. Hubblab… Hublub… Bluble… Bubble? Bubble! Bubble Bath!

"Bubble bath! Heather, it's Heather!"

The clock and the music stops, and the letters go green. Then they fade, and the video starts playing.

"Hey Stiles!" Heather waves at him. "We're all watching you in the Big Brother House and we think you're awesome!"

She blows a kiss and then the screen fades to black.

Stiles glances at Derek, who looks distinctly startled. Stiles swallows.

_~Stiles, you answered correctly. You took twenty three seconds to answer, which means thirty two points have been added to your total score.~_

"That's good, right?" says Stiles. 

"Awesome, buddy!" says Scott. "You hardly even paused, it was amazing!"

Stiles lets out a long breath, and his shoulders go down a bit.

"Heather?" says Derek.

Jealous is a hot look on Derek, it turns out. All kind of broody, and just a little bit like he'd maim anyone who tried to steal his man.

"Her mom and my mom were friends," says Stiles. "We used to take bubble baths together when we were kids. She'd steal the bubbles."

"That is adorable," says Kira.

"It is, thank you Kira!" says Stiles.

"That's alright, then," says Derek. He doesn't look entirely convinced. Stiles looks forward to persuading him later that he's the only person Stiles wants in his bubble bath from now on. Apart from Scott, obviously.

_~Derek. You will be the next housemate to take the test.~_

If they're both still here later. Shit.

The words form, the annoying music starts. 

LLAMAS RUSH.

Seriously? Llamas? What?

Stiles fights images of harassed llamas in his head and wills Derek's brain cells to fire. There's only ten seconds left when Derek finally speaks.

"US Marshall," he says. "Braeden!"

It transpires that Stiles isn't the only one who has a gorgeous girl back home. Derek explains that this one, who says something in her video about Derek keeping his aim true, is an ex US Marshall who runs a gun club and taught him to shoot a couple of summers back. He says he gave it up because he didn't like it. He thinks guns are dangerous.

Stiles, whose father has been shot in the shoulder on duty, agrees. 

Anyway, Derek earns nine points, which is hopefully enough. 

Stiles is doing a lot of hoping right now.

_~Scott. Your test is next.~_

A lot.

The letters come up.

HALO LIFELINE.

Scott squints at the screen, and Stiles holds his breath, clenches his fists so tight his nails are cutting into his palms. He's too worried to work out the clue; he can barely focus on the time clicking down but it goes past thirty seconds, and forty, and fifty, and then Stiles scrunches his eyes shut and-

"Liam! The answer's Liam!"

"Tell them how you got there, Scott!" yells Malia.

"I fell in a hole!"

"No, tell them-"

"That's it, that's what it means! I fell in a hole! Liam is a-"

Liam's on the screen. A young dude, maybe a freshman, with blue eyes and a cheeky grin. Stiles kind of wants to pinch his cheeks. 

"Can't wait to see you, Scott! You're doing great and everyone on the team is cheering you on. Keep being you and have fun!"

"Aww, that's Liam!" Scott says. "I helped him out with lacrosse last season when Coach was off sick. Liam wants to make captain next year. He's awesome."

"Looks like he thinks the world of you," says Lydia.

Scott is all pink-cheeked and dimply.

And he has two points.

_~Lydia. You're next.~_

CRACK DIRT

The words have barely formed when Lydia yells out, "Card trick! Parrish! Jordan Parrish!"

Jordan Parrish is blonde and handsome and wearing a Deputy's uniform. "Hey, Lydia," he says, grinning self-consciously at the camera. "You've been kicking ass in there just like I knew you would, and I couldn't be prouder of you. Have fun and I'll see you soon!"

"Ju-jitsu instructor," says Lydia. "He's a very nice man."

"He looks so young," says Kira.

"He's twenty four," says Lydia. "How many points did I get?"

_~Lydia, you have gained fifty-three points.~_

Everyone claps and high-fives, and it's as if they're done, but no. Not quite.

_~Peter. You will be the last to take the test.~_

Peter leans forward to look at the screen, eyes narrowed in concentration. (Or evil.)

AGILE SAIL.

Ten seconds go by and Lydia raises an eyebrow; another twenty and Derek nods. Stiles can't make sense of it, it doesn't even look English.

Wait. It's not English.

It's Spanish.

The music winds down and the clock ticks to nothing. Instead of the green glow of relief the screen goes red.

_~Peter. You did not guess the answer correctly. Therefore you lose ten points from your total. This leaves you with seventy-two points, which makes you our lowest scoring housemate. You will be going through to the final round to fight for your place in the Big Brother house.~_

Peter buries his face in his hands. It's the first time Stiles has seen him look anything other than confident.

"La Iglesia," says Lydia.

"The Church," says Derek.

"Kate," Peter spits out. "It's Kate."

"You know someone else called Kate?" says Scott.

"No, you moron, the same Kate. We'd met before we came on this show. We go back a long, long way, me and Kate."

Stiles has a million questions about that, but Big Brother isn't about to let them get distracted.

_~The person with the second least points, and joining Peter in the elimination round is…~_

Stiles tries to add up in his head, but of course it's impossible. They weren't allowed to talk about what happened in the first round, so there's no way of knowing what anyone else got. It could be anyone. Stiles doesn't want to win, never did. But he wants to be here 'til the end. Panic rises and he tells himself over and over it doesn't matter, it's only a few days, only a few days, it's just a game-

_~…. Scott.~_

Everything goes still around them for a couple of long, slow-motion seconds, as he and Scott look at each other. And Stiles knows, deep inside, that being in the final will be like ashes in his mouth if Scott isn't there with him. And Scott's panicking.

"It's okay, Scott, you got this," he says. "You can do it, okay? Whatever it is, you're going to win. You have to win. For Liam, for Allison, for your mom, for all of us, okay? You are strong and clever, and you can do a ridiculous number of push-ups. Go do it, man. Just do it."

Scott hugs him fiercely. Out of the corner of his eye Stiles catches a glance at Peter, who's standing away from the melee around Scott. He's cracking his knuckles, staring up at the pictures, and he's alone. All alone.

_~Peter and Scott. Kira and Malia. Please go into the garden. The rest of the housemates must remain indoors for the duration of the test.~_

The screens at the windows roll up to reveal ropes and tunnels and a high wall covered in camouflage netting. It's an assault course.

There's two buckets of something a very suspicious shade of pink and grey near the start line.

"Fish guts," says Lydia, with a shudder.

Scott, Peter, Kira and Malia go out into the garden, and wait.

*

_**4.19pm. For the final part of today's task, Scott and Peter will attempt to finish Big Brother's assault course. Traps have been set along the way which will launch various unpleasant substances at the competitors. Malia and Kira will trigger the traps using the red button whenever Big Brother sounds the klaxon. Whoever completes the assault course last will be evicted from the Big Brother house immediately.** _

"Come on Scott," says Stiles, nose pressed up against the window. He can't bear the thought of Scott being evicted. He tries to focus on the fact that Scott's been working out like mad the past eight weeks, with Derek as his personal trainer. But when they strip down to t-shirts, it's clear that Peter is in pretty good condition too.

The starting klaxon goes, and Peter and Scott sprint to the first obstacle. A simple hurdle, no problem. Next is a balance beam over the swimming pool, and then the klaxon goes again. Malia presses the button first, and a bucket of gunk - not the fish guts yet, just green slime - falls over Peter. Kira's a couple of seconds behind, and she looks away from Scott when she does it. Ropes next, and Peter's in the lead, clambering up the rope and hauling himself onto the platform at the top with a yell of triumph. Scott's a few seconds behind now. There's a zip line back down to the garden and as soon as Peter touches down at the bottom the klaxon goes again.

This time, it's fish guts. Stiles can smell it, even through the tiny crack of open window above them, and watches it drip down Peter's neck and back. He'd enjoy the sight a lot more, but he knows Kira's about to hit her button, and it'll happen to Scott too. He watches Scott falter as the stuff falls on him, hears him gag as he tries not to throw up from the stench.

"Come on, Scott!" Stiles bangs on the window. Let Big Brother tell him off, he doesn't care. 

After the zip line there's a hand-over-hand tunnel to get through, and a bucket of custard tipped over them at the end. Peter slips on the custard and Stiles cheers, willing Scott's feet to stay steady as he plunges for the wall at the end of the course. It's high, as high as the garden walls, and the netting doesn't look too grippy, but Scott flies up like a monkey. Peter's not far behind, and they're a couple of feet from the top when he catches up, within reach of Scott's feet.

Not just within reach. Actually reaching _for_. 

"No! You're cheating, you fucking asshole! You're cheating!" 

Stiles watches helplessly as Scott falls. He bounces on his ass on the crash mat, just as Peter reaches the top, hauling himself up-

-The klaxon goes, it does, and if Stiles thinks Malia pressed the button just a split second before it went, rather than afterwards, he will never ever say it out loud. Because Peter gets hit in the face with a bucket of fish guts just as he's fighting to stand at the top of the wall and it knocks him backwards. There isn't a backwards for him to step into so he falls, arms flailing, all the way down to the mat. Meanwhile Scott's already half way back up the wall, because Scott is brave and stubborn and never, ever gives up.

Scott's standing tall and waiting when the klaxon goes off and the bucket of guts hit. He barely flinches this time. He slams the button that's waiting on the wall, and he wins. He fucking _wins_.

Peter's lying on the ground, covered in custard and goop and guts, and he's going home. He's actually, finally leaving.

Everyone's screaming and jumping around, and when Big Brother informs them that Scott has won, and Peter has thirty seconds to leave via the emergency exit, they just scream louder and jump harder. 

Scott clambers down the ropes and tries to help Peter to his feet, tries to shake his hand, but Peter ignores him. He shambles out of the Big Brother house in the worst possible way.

But Scott has defeated evil, and Stiles couldn't be happier.

*

_**11.46 pm. While Big Brother investigates the problem with the house lighting, the housemates are relaxing in the living area.** _

Stiles is all spread out on the wolf sofa, reclining against Derek's very broad and welcoming chest, Derek's arms looped around his middle. Malia lounges next to them, and Scott sits opposite, with Kira on one side of him, Lydia on the other. The table between the two sofas is covered in lanterns with battery-operated candles inside (health and safety won't allow real candles, apparently). They make everything soft and glowy. 

"This happened a lot in our house," says Malia, helping herself to a handful of toffee butter popcorn from the big bowl on the table. "Everyone thinks it's Kira. She has this weird effect on anything electrical."

Kira shrugs. "I swear I don't do anything. Stuff just happens."

"It's nice," says Scott. "Makes everything kinda cosy."

Stiles notices Scott is holding Kira's hand. He smiles to himself.

Lydia tops up everyone's wine, and Stiles takes a gulp, enjoying the slip of it down his throat. 

"I'm always going to remember this," Derek says. "This moment, right here. With you guys. Always."

They all turn to look at him, because Derek doesn't usually say stuff like that, and Stiles' heart surges because Derek looks so _happy_. His face is all gentle shadows and gleaming cheekbones. He's beautiful. 

Stiles twists around and kisses him. 

"I'm glad it's us," says Lydia. "Kira and Malia, you too. This feels right. It feels like…"

"Pack," says Scott. "It feels like we're pack."

"Yes," says Derek. "It does."

That sounds so weird. And so right.

There's a hum and a flicker, and the picture board springs back to life. The light of it is harsh at first. Peter's face has finally gone grey, with 'evicted' written underneath. Kira and Malia are still in purple. But Stiles, Derek, Scott and Lydia are in colour and, as Stiles watches, the label 'finalist' appears underneath each of them and they all turn gold.

"Oh, wow," says Scott. "That's awesome."

"A toast," says Lydia, raising her glass. "To us. To the finalists - and our friends."

They all clink glasses and drink. Stiles settles back in Derek's arms, cradling his glass in his hands. 

"I'm proud of you," Derek whispers in his ear. 

"We should tell stories," says Scott. 

"Interesting idea," says Lydia. "Who wants to start?" 

"Well, I know a couple," says Kira. 

"Go on then." Lydia curls her legs up under her, and tucks a pillow behind her head, settling in to listen.

"Once upon a time," Kira begins, "at the end of the Edo era in Japan, when the samurai still wandered the land keeping the peace, there lived a fox of great cunning…."

Stiles closes his eyes and lets the words wash over him, listening to the beat of Derek's heart until he drifts into a happy, contented doze.

*

_**For the first time viewers will be able to choose their winner via an online poll.[Follow this link](http://www.poll-maker.com/poll594026xe0014D04-25) before 11.30pm on 28th February 2016 and vote who you would like to win Big Brother: Wolf Wars. If you are reading after 28th February 2016, please do not use the poll as the winner will have been chosen and your votes will not count.** _


	31. Week Eight: Day Fifty Three

_**Day Fifty Three.** _

_**Although they are finalists, there are still testing times ahead for the Housemates.** _

_**8.47 am. Derek and Scott are getting breakfast. Stiles is helping.** _

"Have you set the table yet, Stiles?" 

Derek's face is trying to look all stern and authoritative. It's adorable.

"No, Derek, I have not. Would you like me to do that now?"

"If it's not too much trouble."

"Oooh, that's almost sarcasm. Aren't you just a big bad wolf?"

"Just see how big my teeth get if you don't set the table."

Kira leans back on the counter next Scott, who's breaking eggs into a mixing bowl. "You know, over here, they say 'have you _laid_ the table'."

"Laid who on the table?" says Stiles, and waggles his eyebrows at Derek, who laughs, completely breaking the menacing facade.

"Dude," says Scott. "There's gonna be French toast soon. We need plates."

"No problem." Stiles sticks his tongue out at Derek and skips off to the table. Derek smacks his ass on his way past.

"I had sex on a table once," says Malia. "In a park. He got splinters in his a lot of places."

Scott drops the egg he was about to crack, and it smashes open on the counter. 

"Throw that one away," says Derek, who has clearly come to know Scott remarkably well and realises he would otherwise scoop it into the bowl and then spend forever trying to get the bits of shell out.

"There was this one time in high school," says Lydia. "On Coach's desk with the captain of the swim team."

Stiles very carefully puts his pile of plates down on the table.

"You had sex with the captain of the swim team in a teacher's office?" Kira stares at Lydia in awe. "Sorry, Malia, that beats a park bench."

"Hey! It wasn't a park bench," says Malia. "It was one of those picnic tables. Was he hot, Lydia?"

"She really was," says Lydia. 

Stiles makes a squeaking noise.

_~This is Big Brother. Would Derek come to the Diary Room.~_

Derek passes the bread knife to Kira, and wipes his hands on a dishcloth. "That table better be set by the time I get back," he says to Stiles.

"Or what? You gonna savage me with your big sharp wolf claws?" Stiles waggles his fingers at Derek as he goes by.

Derek stops, and looks Stiles up and down as if he's working out which bit to maul first.

Then he swoops in, grabs Stiles firmly by the shoulders, and kisses him. Kisses him like he wants to eat him whole, all tongue and clashing teeth and the kind of sexual energy that ends up with people getting bent over tables of many kinds and fucked within an inch of their lives. 

By the time Derek pulls back they're both breathless, and Stiles feels like his skin's on fire. He rests his forehead against Derek's. 

"Three days," Derek says. "Three days, nd I am going to have you up against all and every damn surface I can find, I swear to God. Including," - he pauses for another kiss - "the fucking table."

"Well, good," says Stiles, too sex-stupid to think of a witty come-back.

"Plates," says Derek, and stalks off to the diary room, leaving Stiles to collapse in an ungainly heap on the nearest chair. 

"At that rate you're not gonna make it to the hotel room," says Malia.

Stiles whimpers.

*

_**12.53 pm. Big Brother has called Stiles to the Diary Room.** _

Stiles: (bounces onto the Diary Room chair)

Big Brother: Good afternoon, Stiles.

Stiles: Yo, Big Girl-Bro.

Big Brother: Congratulations on becoming a finalist.

Stiles: Thanks. I mean, yeah, wow. It still hasn't sunk in, really. I never expected to get this far.

Big Brother: Any of the final four could win. How do you rate your chances?

Stiles: Me? God, zero. Seriously. I'll be the first out on finals day. And that's cool, you know? There's no way on earth I deserve it more than the others. Scott's this big shiny hero, Derek's awesome, Lydia's amazing and really, really smart. I'm just… I don't know. Entertaining, I guess, sometimes? 

Big Brother: Would you like to win, Stiles?

Stiles: (goes still, fiddles with the hem of his plaid shirt) Actually - and I know this sounds like a really douchey thing to say, but I mean it - no. I really don't. Not that the money wouldn't come in useful, but I never in a million years expected to win it. I've got a scholarship for college. And I'm not good with… I dunno, the whole celebrity thing terrifies me a bit, you know? I've never been famous, never even been noticed, really. I don't think I'm ready. And that's the honest truth.

Big Brother: Who would you like to win?

Sitles: Lydia. And yeah, I know, Scott's my bro, and Derek's my boyfriend and wow, that's not gonna stop sounding weird any time soon. But Lydia is the only one of us who really wants this. Needs it, actually. You know she's got a place at Oxford University, right? Only she can't go because she can't afford it, her mom can't afford it, and her Dad is a complete jerk who could afford it but won't pay. And Lydia's so smart. I mean, seriously, absolutely fucking genius-level smart. Scott and Derek don't care about winning much more than I do. We already kind of have won, being here right to the end. But Lydia… yeah. I would love for Lydia to win.

Big Brother: What do you mean when you say you've already won, Stiles? What have you got out of Big Brother?

Stiles: Er.. Everything? Seriously. I've had the most crazy, amazing time. College is just going to be lame by comparison. I've made friends for life here. I've found my best bud. And I fell in love, for fuck's sake. With someone who actually fell right back at me. And, I mean, Girl-Bro, have you _seen_ Derek Hale? How the hell could I ever expect someone like that to fall for a hyperactive, annoying little runt like me? And don't tell me I'm not. You've been talking to me for like, eight weeks now. You know what I'm like.

Big Brother: Big Brother has enjoyed your company, Stiles. What will you miss most when you leave the house?

Stiles: That's easy.

(pause)

Stiles: You. (blows kiss at the camera)

(pause)

Big Brother: Big Brother will miss you, too, Stiles. You are now free to leave the Diary Room.

*

**_5.45 pm. Most of the Housemates have been gathered on the sofas for Big Brother's 'Ultimate Ultimatum' Task._ **

Lydia has been missing from the house for two and a half hours. Over the course of the day all of them, even Malia and Kira, had been called into the Diary Room to talk about their experience on the show and who they wanted to win. Lydia was the last of them to go.

But she didn't come back.

Stiles has been getting more wound up by the minute, to the point where Derek and Scott are practically holding him down to keep him on the sofa. 

"It's just a task," says Kira. "She'll be fine."

"Yeah, well, what if it's not?" says Stiles. "What if she walked?"

"Can you honestly imagine Lydia walking?" says Derek.

"Not voluntarily, no. Unless there's something wrong. Fuck, why won't they tell us? I just need to know she's okay."

"She'll be fine," says Scott, tightening his grip on Stiles' arm. "You need to chill, man."

Stiles is about to tell Scott in vivid and colourful language the many reasons why that is totally impossible, when the plasma screen thrums to life.

The screen shows a room that looks like the worst sort of hospital you can imagine: the walls are covered in grubby tiles and faded paint; there's a metal-framed bed, an old-fashioned roll-top bathtub and, in the middle of the room, sitting on crate, is Lydia. Her hair's wet, her skin's pale and for some reason she's wearing a towelling bath-robe that's at least two sizes too big. She has headphones on.

She looks small - probably because of the camera angle - but she also looks scared.

Stiles stares at the screen, heart pounding, trying to process what he's seeing. The part of his mind that tells him this is all a game can't make sense of it: it looks so horrible, and Lydia just never looked helpless before, not ever. Sad, annoyed, pissed off beyond all comprehension, yes, but never helpless. He grips Derek's hand so hard he makes Derek grunt.

"It's not real," says Scott. "Okay? It's not real."

"Can she hear us?" Stiles asks. "Lydia! Can you hear us?"

Lydia just sits there.

_~This is Big Brother. Housemates. This afternoon, Lydia accepted the challenge to spend the afternoon in Big Brother's Room of Fear, in order to win cash prizes for her fellow-housemates. ~_

"She didn't have to do that," says Scott.

"She really didn't," says Derek.

The lights where Lydia is go off; she screams, there's a second of blackness, and then the infra-red cameras kick in.

_~Lydia now faces one final challenge. Whatever happens in the next five minutes, she must stay seated on the crate. If she fails, all the prizes she has won will be forfeit.~_

Stiles' insides are a knot. He can't bear this. He'd rather do it himself than watch Lydia go through it. 

_~Housemates. In front of you is a buzzer. If any of you presses the buzzer at any time, it will stop the challenge, and the housemate who pressed the buzzer will be able to rescue Lydia from the Room of Fear. However, all the cash prizes Lydia has won for her fellow housemates will be forfeit.~_

Lydia's voice comes over the speakers. "Don't press it. I'm fine. Don't press it."

Stiles' fingers twitch.

"If she says she doesn't want you to press it, don't press it," says Malia. "Listen to her, Stiles."

_~The challenge begins now.~_

Stiles pulls his hand from Derek's, and waits.

There's a long, long pause during which nothing happens at all. Stiles holds his breath and stares at the screen, and he's just starting to wonder if this is the thing, that actually nothing happens and it's just the tension-

The room on the screen flashes with light and something falls from the ceiling: Lydia squeals.

"Are those… teddy bears?" says Kira.

Lydia catches one, touches it, and lets out a nervous laugh. The lights come up to a dim glow.

"Okay, that's not so bad," says Scott. "Soft toys aren't scary, right? Even if they are falling from the sky."

"My sister had this really creepy doll once," Malia begins, but everyone shushes her.

Stiles scoots to the very edge of the sofa. Lydia's head is down. Her hands are shaking. Stiles squints at the screen: he can just make out shapes in the ceiling, where the bears came from. There's a bucket up there, no, wait, two buckets. He recognises them from yesterday's task: they're labelled. He can't make out the letters but he can see that one's a short word, maybe ending in k or p, and the other one's two short words, underneath each other, he can make out an f, maybe-

Lydia screams, a bucket tips and she's covered in bright red gunk. 

Which means the other bucket is…

"No!" Stiles leaps up and slams his hand on the buzzer so hard the plastic shatters. 

_~Stiles. You have pressed the buzzer. You may now rescue Lydia. Please come to the Diary Room.~_

Stiles runs across the room, up the stairs and slaps the button for the Diary Room; the door opens and he flings himself inside.

*

Big Brother: Stiles. Please take a seat.

Stiles: Where's Lydia?

Big Brother: Big Brother needs you to calm down.

Stiles: Is she okay? 

Big Brother: Lydia is fine, and you will see her soon. Big Brother needs you to sit down and take a few deep breaths.

Stiles: (sits) I swear, if you've harmed one perfect, strawberry-blonde hair on her head…

Big Brother: Stiles, Big Brother always has the Housemate's safety and well-being as the top priority.

Stiles: Yeah? Well, tell that to Danny. It was fish guts in that bucket, wasn't it? She has a thing about fish, you bastards, you know she does! Remember the mackerel? 

(pause)

Big Brother: You may now leave the diary room to your left, in order to save Lydia.

*

Stiles pushes through the door, still angry, and goes straight to Lydia, who's still sitting on the crate. 

"Lydia?"

She looks up at him, red gunk dripping from her hair. "Stiles, what are you doing here? You shou-"

"If you say 'you shouldn't have pressed the button' I swear I will cover you in fishguts myself," says Stiles. "Now shut up, and let me rescue you."

"I really can't stand fishguts," says Lydia, weakly.

Then she lets herself be scooped up into Stiles' arms.

*

**_6.35 pm._ **

Stiles is sitting on the sofa with Derek, sipping at a cup of herb tea that Scott made him, and trying to stop jiggling his knee. He's not having much success. 

"You can say it out loud, you know," Stiles says. "I know you all think I over-reacted."

"Nobody thinks that," says Derek.

"Man, we all felt the same," says Scott. "Nobody minds."

The door behind them opens, and Lydia's standing there with Malia and Kira. She's dressed in Kira's fluffy fox onesie, and her hair is turbanned in a big white towel. 

"You're an idiot, Stiles," Lydia says. "You totally over-reacted."

"Sorry," says Stiles.

Lydia comes over and puts her arms around him. She kisses his cheek, and whispers, "thank you."

*

_**12.31 am. All the Housemates are in getting ready for bed, except for Lydia who is in the Diary Room.** _

"I hope Lydia's okay," says Scott, sniffing his socks before shoving them into the drawer under the bed where the laundry pile currently resides.

"She said she was going to ask to see the psych," Stiles says. "Something they did to her triggered some kind of memory of her grandmother."

"What the fuck did they do to her?" Stiles hasn't seen Scott angry with Big Brother before, but he's been furious all evening. 

"Nothing bad," Stiles says. "Just a co-incidence, she said."

Stiles spent a couple of hours in the garden with Lydia earlier, talking about the challenge, amongst other things. It's the longest conversation they've ever had, and Stiles thinks it's going to take a while to process. For now it's enough to know he loves Lydia more, even, than he did when he thought he was _in_ love with her. What he's not telling Scott - because he promised Lydia he wouldn't - is that Lydia knew she was facing some demons going into that room, and she did it anyway. For the rest of them. And to come out stronger.

It makes Stiles question, a little, whether he did the right thing in stopping her. She says the fishguts would have been one step too far, and nobody seems to mind about losing the money. Derek's family is loaded, of course, and Scott cares way more about Lydia than money, just like Stiles. But he worries a bit that by rescuing her he wasted all the courage she'd had to stay in there so long.

There's a lot of thoughts swirling around in his mind about friendship and the way you see the world, but it's too much for Stiles to deal with just now. When he's out of the house he'll have plenty of time to think about it. Maybe he'll talk about it in what they call 'Big Brother Exit Support', which is a fancy name for therapy. 

He's starting to understand why people need it.

Derek comes over to Stiles and Scott's bed, pulling a t-shirt over his head. It's one of Boyd's, Stiles thinks. All of Derek's 'pack' have given him some item of clothing when they left the house, which is adorable. (Derek doesn't wear the camisole top that Cora left, but he does sleep with it under his pillow.) 

"You did good today," Derek says, and kisses Stiles on the forehead.

"I just got to the button first," says Stiles. "Right?"

He looks into Derek's eyes, twinkly and pretty as fairy lights, and Derek kisses him on the mouth. Softly, with his hand cradling the back of Stiles' head, thumb stroking the really sensitive spot behind his ear. Then he presses his face into Stiles' neck, and breathes deeply.

"Get a room, you two." Lydia's voice. 

Stiles looks up. She still looks a little pale, but she's smiling. 

"Yeah, store-cupboard's free," says Malia.

Stiles and Derek both launch pillows at her. She catches them deftly, one in each hand.

"I should warn you that I'm a veteran of the Big Brother USA Night of Fights Pillow Massacre," says Malia, twirling the pillows by their corners.

If that isn't a declaration of war, Stiles doesn't know what is.

*

_**For the first time viewers will be able to choose their winner via an online poll.[Follow this link](http://www.poll-maker.com/poll594026xe0014D04-25) before 11.30pm on 28th February 2016 and vote who you would like to win Big Brother: Wolf Wars. If you are reading after 28th February 2016, please do not use the poll as the winner will have been chosen and your votes will not count. The Winner will be announced during the Finale episode on 29th February.** _


	32. Week Eight: Day Fifty Five

**_Day Fifty Five. 9.15 am._ **

**_Today is the last full day in the Big Brother House._ **

**_Kira and Scott are in the garden. The rest of the housemates are enjoying breakfast._ **

"I wonder," says Lydia, tapping her lower lip thoughtfully with the end of her chopstick.

"What?" says Stiles. 

Lydia scoops another few cheerios onto her chopstick and rolls them in the bowl of Nutella. "I wonder if Kira and Malia would still be here, if Kira and Scott hadn't got together."

"It is a bit of a gift to the show," says Derek. "A romance in the last week."

"I hope they don't start up all that showmance bullshit," says Malia. 

"How could they?" says Stiles. "Scott couldn't pretend feelings to save his life. Look at the two of them. All that smiling and giggling. Could they be any more adorable?"

Lydia gives Stiles and Derek a sly look. "I can think of a few ways."

"Have they had sex yet?" says Malia, who's very straightforward about things. 

"Doubt it," says Stiles. "I think Scott lost his nerve after he found out about the camera in the store cupboard."

"Ha," says Malia. "Like you and Derek?"

"Shut up," says Stiles.

"We're completely celibate now," says Derek, and nuzzles at Stiles' neck.

"Were you being celibate in the Sky Room yesterday?" asks Lydia.

"Completely," says Stiles.

"Mostly," says Derek.

"Barely," says Lydia, with a smirk, and sucks the Nutella-coated Cheerios off her chopstick. 

"Don't worry," says Malia. "You can bang each others' brains out in the hotel room tomorrow night."

A thrill shoots up Stiles' spine, and he thinks he hears Derek whimper.

Tomorrow. Wow. He's going to miss all this so much: his friends, the house, Big Brother, even the crazy tasks. But he wants to see his Dad. He wants to Google the fuck out of the Internet. And he very, very much wants to bang Derek's brains out in a hotel room. And a shower. And many, many other places.

"Soon," says Derek, into Stiles' neck. "Soon."

He sounds just a tiny bit desperate, truth be told.

*

**_11.55 pm. The housemates and their houseguests are in the garden, enjoying the sunshine._ **

Stiles is drifting, almost asleep. He's lying on his front with his top off. Derek has slathered so much sun block on him that he a) will probably be white and pasty for ever, and b) has a ridiculous hard-on that's trying to burrow into the grass beneath him. 

He can hear Kira and Lydia splashing about in the pool, lets their conversation wash over him.

"Of course he'll see you after the show," Lydia tells Kira.

"I don't know," says Kira. "We all said that in our house, you know? But it's been six weeks, and Malia's the only one I've seen or heard from since the wrap party."

"Well, it's true that friendships are different in here. You don't have a lot of choice when you've got to share a small space with people for such a long time. It makes it easier to overlook things that would drive you insane in the real world."

"Exactly, right? Like Scott. If it had been you, Lydia, on the assault course, and I'd had to press the button to get you covered in fish guts…."

"I would have been livid and never spoken to you again. But Scott's not like that. He knows you didn't want to do it. You're a loyal, kickass house guest, and he couldn't be more into you."

"I hope so," says Kira.

Stiles turns his head and squints at the gazebo, where Scott is talking to Malia. It's hard to imagine any of them not being friends. It's actually hard to imagine them not hanging out together every day. 

But who knows what might happen out in the real world?

Stiles' breathing quickens; a warm, calm hand lands on the small of his back. 

"No-one knows what's going to happen, Stiles," whispers Derek. "But I promise you, I'm not going to change my mind. Meanwhile, just enjoy what we have here, while we have it. Okay?"

Stiles nods, and kisses Derek on the nose. (Which always leaves Derek adorably disconcerted.) "I need to go pee," he says, and pulls himself up to his feet.

The house is cool, air-con on full blast. Stiles goes to the toilet, relieves his bladder, washes his hands and sighs at himself in the mirror.

Then he takes a closer look at his reflection. 

He looks so different.

It shouldn't be a revelation really, because there are mirrors all around them every day. But it's been a while since he took much notice.

His hair's grown out from its buzzcut; his face looks less round; his shoulders look broader. It's been just eight weeks but Stiles has changed. 

He doesn't look like a kid any more.

Derek's right. This experience is too special to waste on being scared about what comes next. Stiles rushes to the bedroom.

A couple of minutes later he's back in the garden, brandishing a foil packet and yelling, "Hey, who's up for a game of water-volleycondom?"

This time, he and Scott are on the winning team.

*

_**7.55pm. Big Brother has told the Housemates to sit in the garden.** _

Stiles regards the bowls of snacks and glasses of Prosecco in front of them with suspicion. "It's like the last meal before the execution," he says.

"It's not a very big last meal," says Scott.

The garden's floodlit, even though it's not really dark yet. They're facing the house but the shutters are down, not just in the bedroom and bathroom but the living area, too. Stiles didn't even know the living area had shutters. There's muffled noises coming from the house. Kira and Malia are in there, but it sounds like more than just the two of them talking.

"It has to be a task," says Scott.

"I don't think so," says Lydia. "I think it's a live show of some kind."

"So long as no-one gets tortured this time," says Derek, and squeezes Lydia's hand.

A weird, muffled thumping noise comes from the house. Lydia tilts her head, listening. "That sounds like applause."

"What?" says Stiles, more nervous than ever.

"There's people in there," says Derek. 

"A lot of people," says Lydia.

The shutters start to rise. 

Stiles blinks at the windows, mind scrabbling to take in what he's seeing as it's revealed one inch at a time. It's the living area, just like normal, except the sofas are both in the middle, with the dining table on the left, and there's a bank of tiered seats to the right full of _people_. A lot of people.

"It's _Bit on the Side_ ," says Lydia. "Look, there's Rylan."

She's right. It's just like the studio show. And Rylan is there, waving at them. He looks taller than he did on the videos Stiles saw before he went into the house. He's skinny, long-legged, and he has amazing cheekbones. He's still waving at them.

They wave back. 

_~Housemates. You may now put your headphones on.~_

It's so weird to see _people_ again. Stiles stares, transfixed, to the point that Derek has to nudge him with his headphones to get him to put them on.

They're the fluffy wolf-ear ones from the Den.

"Good evening, housemates, this is Rylan. You are live on Big Brother's Bit on the Side - please do not swear!" says Rylan over the headphones. 

Stiles waves again and says, "Hi!" along with everyone else.

"Hope you don't mind us borrowing your house for an hour," says Rylan. "Fancied a change from the studio."

"Help yourself," says Scott.

"Thank you, True Alpha!" says Rylan.

Stiles scans the audience, and accidentally makes eye-contact with a girl on the second row. She smiles at him and makes a heart-shape with her hands, mouths, 'I love you, Stiles' at him. His heart races, and he finds Derek's hand, grabs on to it. Derek squeezes his in return.

"Now, just sit there and enjoy your nibbles," Rylan says. "I'll be back with you in a minute. But first it's time to introduce my gorgeous panel!"

The audience claps and shrieks. The back row is made up entirely of drag queens. Stiles blows kisses to them, because honestly they look fabulous and it's not like life could get any weirder. 

"My first guest tonight was first to be evicted, but she's making her return to the House tonight. Fresh from a stint in Big Brother Mexico - please welcome our wolf hunter, Kate!"

Kate skips her way down the stairs, shares air-kisses with Rylan and takes her seat at the table. She looks different. Blonder. Tanned. She's waving straight at Derek. 

Stiles pulls Derek's hand into his lap and gives her the finger. Derek's eyebrows express his surprise and concern, but Stiles ignores them. Kate is _not_ getting her nasty little tongue on Derek's abs again.

Meanwhile, Rylan has turned his attention back to the audience. "We borrowed our next guests from the USA to shake things up a bit in the house, and I'm sure you'll agree they did a fantastic job. Give a big, BBOTTS welcome to US Big Brother Winner Malia Tate, and Runner Up Kira Yukimura!" 

Malia and Kira come down the stairs and take their seats next to Kate. Kira's wearing a red satin dress, and Malia's in an orange jumpsuit. They look glamorous, all lip gloss and brilliant smiles. Stiles barely recognises them. 

"Now, housemates, we're going to turn you off for now, but we'll be back later. Meanwhile enjoy your nibbles and fizz. Tara for now!"

There's a hiss and the headphones go dead. 

"Fuck," says Stiles, and shifts his 'phones off one ear. "Wait, can they hear us?"

"No," says Lydia. "They'll be focusing on the panel discussion."

"They did this in the Celebrity version last year," Derek says. "I didn't think they'd do it with us."

"It's a decompression strategy," says Lydia. "They did a study of some of the housemates of old shows, and sometimes they struggle to adjust enough to cope with the press and cameras on Finals night. This helps us remember that it's just a game."

"It's not working," says Stiles. "It makes the outside world seem even more insane."

"I know what you mean," says Derek. "It's like a bunch of gatecrashers decided to have a party in your living room and make you watch."

"Kira looks kind of embarrassed," says Scott. "What d'you think they're saying to her?"

"'What's it like to kiss a True Alpha?', I expect," says Lydia.

"Oh wow," says Scott. 

"They'll be asking you tomorrow," says Derek.

Stiles picks up his glass of Prosecco and downs it in one. His head's still buzzing when there's a hiss in his headphones and Rylan's voice comes back.

"Housemates, can you hear me? You're back with us!"

"Hi," says Stiles, cursing himself for being too lame to come up with something witty.

"Congratulations on becoming Big Brother Finalists! Scott, how does it feel?"

"Good," says Scott. "Um, yeah, good."

"And Lydia, we saw you struggling a bit with yesterday's task. Are you feeling better now?"

"Thanks to Stiles," says Lydia. "Just don't expect me to eat sushi any time soon."

"Derek-"

There are wolf-whistles from the audience.

"- Did you think you'd make it to the end?"

"Not at all, Rylan. I thought it would be Cora. But I'm pleased to be here representing her, at least." 

Stiles claps along with the audience: he is seriously impressed with how together Derek is under pressure. 

"And Stiles, what's been the best part of your time in the house?"

"Bread," Stiles hears himself say. "I love making bread."

Everyone laughs, and Stiles feels like a complete idiot. 

"Well," says Rylan. "I think you'll be keen to see our next guests. Put your hands together, everyone, for the Housemates' friends and family!"

"What?" Stiles looks to Derek, but Derek's staring through the window. 

"Welcome," Rylan says, "to Lydia's mum, Natalie! Scott's boss, Dr Deaton! Derek's sister and ex-housemate Cora! Stiles' dad, Sheriff Stilinski!"

Stiles is off his chair and up to the window before anyone can yell in his ear. He can see his dad, his dad, right there on the other side of the glass; he can imagine how he smells (the sharp edge of his cologne, peppermint shower gel, dark coffee) and he just wants so very, very badly to touch him.. 

_~This is Big Brother. Would housemates please step away from the window and go back to their seats.~_

Stiles realises the others followed him to the glass; they all have the same yearning expressions on their faces. Derek gently takes his hand to pull him away, and Stiles walks backwards, not taking his eyes off his dad for a second.

"Welcome to the Big Brother House, friends and family," says Rylan. "Housemates, we will be turning off your headphones for a few minutes, but don't worry, we'll be back shortly."

The headphones hiss and fall silent. Stiles lets Derek put his arms around him for a quick, tight hug before he sits down again, clinging to Derek's hand. Lydia pours him more Prosecco.

"Your dad looks awesome, man," says Scott. "His eyes are all twinkly."

"I think he's flirting with my mom," says Lydia. 

"Must run in the family," murmurs Derek.

"Dad," croaks Stiles. "Oh God. Dad. What's he doing here? Why isn't he back in Beacon Hills?"

"I think he came to see you," says Derek. 

"Why?" says Stiles.

"He's probably fond of you."

Stiles gulps down Prosecco, unable to stop staring. Rylan's interviewing the four of them, and there's lots of laughing. His Dad looks surprisingly natural in front of the cameras, probably all the media training he's done for his job. He keeps looking at Stiles, like his attention's pulled towards Stiles as much as Stiles' is to him. 

The headphones come back on.

"Housemates, welcome back. Listen carefully, because each of our friends and family have a special message, just for you. Friends and family, it's time for your pep talk. Please look straight down the camera. You'll have just fifteen seconds each. Sheriff, you're first. What would you like to say to Stiles, in fifteen seconds, starting…. Now!"

"Stiles, I love you, I'm so proud of you. You're a real hero back home. You went in there open to whatever happened and you've made the best of every opportunity you've been given. I've missed you like crazy, the house is way too quiet, and I can't wait to see you tomorrow. I'll be here, son. Always."

"I love you, Dad!" Stiles is aware of tears streaming down his cheeks, and he can't help but reach towards the window. Things get blurry; he vaguely registers the others' messages, all in the same vein. Cora tells Derek she's pleased for him and Stiles, which gets huge applause from the studio audience (and some enthusiastic comments of a sexual nature from the drag queens). Scott's boss, the veterinarian, tells him he makes a great wolf. Lydia's mom tells her how brave she is. 

And then Rylan's thanking them all and they're leaving, waving as they leave the house, and Stiles feels like his heart is breaking. The rest of the show goes by in a blur.

*

_**12.12 pm. The Housemates are all in bed.** _

The bedroom seems huge now. There's way more empty beds than occupied ones. Stiles fluffs up his pillow.

"It's the last night," says Scott. "So weird."

"Yeah," says Stiles. "Is it just me, or does it all seem kind of unreal? Earlier, I mean, with Rylan and everything."

"Totally," says Scott.

"Like a dream," says Lydia.

"Maybe it was," says Derek. "Maybe the outside world doesn't exist any more, and we're going to be here forever."

"God, I hope not," says Lydia. "You're all lovely, but if I don't get to read an actual book, have a decent haircut and talk to another girl, I swear I'm going to go insane."

"You won't have long to wait," says Scott. "This time tomorrow it'll be over. We'll have finished Bit on the Side and we'll be heading to the hotel. We'll be free."

Stiles glances at Derek, who glances at him. Stiles mouths the word 'hotel' and they grin at each other.

"Well, I don't know about you guys, but I need my beauty sleep," says Lydia. "Can we have the lights off, Big Brother?"

The lights fade to black.

_~Goodnight, Housemates. Sweet dreams.~_

"Goodnight, Big Brother," they all reply.

Stiles rolls on to his side and closes his eyes, smiling to himself when Scott's arm curls around him, snug and protective.

*

For the first time viewers will be able to choose their winner via an online poll. [Follow this link](http://www.poll-maker.com/poll594026xe0014D04-25) before 11.30pm (GMT) on 28th February 2016 and vote who you would like to win Big Brother: Wolf Wars. If you are reading after 28th February 2016, please do not use the poll as the winner will have been chosen and your votes will not count.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow: the final.   
> Followed by a grand reunion show on 2nd March.


	33. Week Eight: Day Fifty Six. The Final.

_**Day 56. 9.47 am.** _

_**The housemates are packing their suitcases ahead of leaving the house in tonight's grand final.** _

Stiles lays his final t-shirt on the staggered pile he's created across the bed, and spreads the fabric smooth. 

"Dude, I have no idea what you're doing,' says Scott.

"It's the patent Stilinski packing method,' says Stiles. "I worked it out once during a history exam."

"Hmm." Lydia nudges her way next to Scott to observe. "Intriguing."

"The magic hasn't happened yet," says Stiles. "Watch."

He goes back to the other end of the pile, and starts to roll, tucking in sleeves, keeping everything nice and tight, pressing down as the roll gets bigger to keep the air out. Finally he's formed a t-shirt sausage, which he brandishes triumphantly before plonking it in his suitcase. "Ta-da! See? Highly economic use of space."

"So long as you don't need to remove one specific t-shirt," says Lydia.

"Well, I won't, will I? When I get to the hotel I'll be emptying it all out to give this suitcase back to them."

"Actually I think we get to keep the suitcases if we want them," says Lydia. 

"It's a really cool method, dude," says Scott. "Does it work with underwear, too?"

Stiles grins at him. "One way to find out, buddy."

Scott grins back. "Let the experiments begin."

*

**_11.52 am. Stiles is in the Diary Room, talking to Big Brother._ **

Big Brother: Good morning, Stiles.

Stiles: (sitting cross-legged on the Diary Room chair) Yo, Girl-bro!

Big Brother: How is your last morning in the house going, Stiles?

Stiles: Pretty good. Felt weird not making bread, but we got the suitcases packed and all. That took quite a while in the end, jeans don't roll right. Gonna hang out by the pool later.

Big Brother: Who do you think is going to win tonight?

Stiles: Me. Not the show, I don't want to win the show. But I get to take Derek home, and believe me, that is an awesome, awesome prize. Don't you think? (smirks)

Big Brother: How does it feel, this being your last day in the Big Brother House?

Stiles: (sighs) Oh, Man. Such mixed feelings, you know? Seriously mixed, like, all thrown into a big freakin' washing machine and tossed about kind of mixed. One minute I was laughing so hard I nearly peed myself because Scott made a swan out of his pyjama pants; next I noticed Derek packing this tiny stuffed animal I'd never seen before. Turns out it was a cute little wolf his younger brother gave him as a mascot, and then it's all I can do to keep from breaking down sobbing. Part of me's done, Girl-Bro, part of me's really over all this weirdness and ready to see my Dad, get back to Beacon Hills and my computer and music and watch a movie - do you know that two Marvel movies and a whole season of Jessica Jones came out while we were in here? How the fuck crazy is that?

(pause)

Stiles: (tapping his fingers on the arm of the Diary Room chair) Then there's this other part of me. The part of me that never wants this to end. That part wants to stay here forever with Derek and Scott and Lydia, because nothing will ever be like this again, you know? Once we're back in the outside world, all this will just be a memory. And seriously, I've had the best eight weeks of my life in this place. Yeah, part of me never wants it to end.

Big Brother: Big Brother is sure that there's lots of good things ahead for you, Stiles.

Stiles: Yeah, yeah, I know. Thanks. I mean, college, right? The big adventure. And Derek, I'm hoping I get to keep Derek, and Scott and Lydia, we'll be friends for life, I hope. So it won't all be over. It's just… it'll never be like this again. And it's been awesome. I mean it. Thank you so much.

Big Brother: You're welcome, Stiles. Big Brother thinks you've been an amazing housemate.

Stiles: Ah, you say that to all the housemates. Hey, will you be at the wrap party? 

(pause)

Stiles: I'll just go round talking to everyone until I recognise your voice, you know.

Big Brother: The voice of Big Brother will not be at the wrap party, Stiles. But Big Brother hopes you have a great time.

*

**_8.25 pm. The Housemates have gathered in the living area for the final. They are waiting to hear who you've chosen as your winner of Big Brother: Wolf Wars. Emma will be talking to the house soon._ **

Stiles fidgets with his collar: he's wearing a suit and tie and it feels all weird and stiff. Derek and Scott look really cool (Derek's wearing an honest-to-god waistcoat and he's stunning, he could be a model, seriously) but Lydia looks absolutely incredible. She's wearing a blue dress that shows off her… everything, and her hair is a flaming river of strawberry-blonde glory over one shoulder. Stiles could imagine her on a catwalk, or a red carpet somewhere. 

The crowd outside is really loud. Stiles tries not to listen to it.

"Come and sit down," says Lydia.

"I can't. Can't keep still, I… why is it so loud out there?"

"It's the final, Stiles." Lydia touches his arm. "People are excited."

"I don't want to win." Stiles bites down panic. "They wouldn't make me win, would they? God, all those people, I don't know if I can face it all alone and-"

"Stiles, stop."

Derek pulls him close, strokes his hair, and he breathes.

"Okay," he says. "Okay."

"You'll be fine," says Scott. "You won't be alone. You'll always have us, dude, okay? We're pack now."

Stiles snorts. 

"Give up fighting it, Stiles," says Lydia. "I gave up in week three. Let them play wolf if it keeps them happy."

Scott makes a yipping noise.

"Seriously, Scott?" says Stiles.

"Did you know wolves kind of kiss?" says Scott. "They bite each other's muzzles in affection."

"Yeah, well, that ship has sailed, Mr True Alpha Werewolf. Not that you aren't incredibly attractive, but Derek would kick your cute little werewolf ass so hard if you were to make a move now."

Derek shrugs.

Scott snaps his teeth at Stiles' nose.

Stiles snaps back.

They both take their jackets off.

Lydia pours herself a glass of water and watches with Derek as the two of them chase each other around the house for the next ten minutes.

_~This is Big Brother. Could housemates please return to the sofas.~_

"Right," says Stiles, flopping back against the cushions. "You three behave when I'm gone, okay?"

They sit in a row, holding hands. Lydia, then Scott, then Stiles, then Derek. 

_~Good evening, Big Brother Finalists. This is Emma.~_

Stiles gives the nearest camera a nervous wave. The crowd cheers and a female voice yells, "I love you, Stiles!"

Derek squeezes Stiles' hand a little harder.

_~All right, here we go. Derek. Lydia. Scott. Stiles.~_

The noise form outside swells, so loud that Stiles can't make out anything specific anymore, which is probably a blessing.

_~The votes have been cast, your fate is sealed. The person who has come fourth in Big Brother: Wolf Wars is….~_

Breathe, Stiles. Your name's coming. Any second now.

_~… Scott.~_

What?

_~Derek, Lydia, Stiles, I'll be talking to you again soon. Scott, it's time to leave the Big Brother house. Please say your goodbyes.~_

Fresh panic floods through Stiles. Scott is beaming, hugging him so tight he can barely breathe. Derek's staring in shock. Even Lydia looks surprised.

"See you soon, guys," says Scott. "It's been amazing. I love you so much. Good luck!"

"Love you too, man," says Stiles, still stunned, and lets Scott pull away. 

Scott picks up his jacket and bounds up the stairs three at a time. Lydia, Derek and Stiles watch him take a few deep breaths as the crowd screams the countdown, with occasional yells of 'Scott 'n' Stiles! Scott 'n' Stiles!' and 'Ly-di-a!'. The doors open, Scott's swallowed up by light and noise, and they close again. 

"That was cheering, right?" says Stiles. "They liked him."

"They loved him," says Derek. "They love both of you."

"That's really good, I mean, he was so worried they'd hate him because of Kira and Allison, but I told him he'd be okay, and… will he be okay? D'you think?"

Derek folds his arms around Stiles, and hushes him quiet. 

*

Fifteen minutes later, they're sent back to the sofas. Stiles is ready. He takes a deep breath, and waits to hear his name.

_~Hello, Big Brother House. This is Emma.~_

Stiles feels calm, and time turns to soothing treacle.

_~The person who has come third in Big Brother: Wolf Wars is….~_

The seconds tick by and Stiles memorises the feeling of Derek's hand in his, valleys and peaks of his knuckles, the smoothness of his palm.

~Derek.~

What?

~Derek, it's time to leave the Big Brother House. Please say your goodbyes.~

"What? No!"

"It's cool," says Derek, and he sounds like he means it. "Stiles, listen to me."

"They got it wrong," Stiles says.

"They didn't," says Derek. "They got it dead right. Come here."

Derek pulls him in and kisses him, hugs him really tight and whispers in his ear. "To eviction and beyond, right?"

Stiles fumbles for Derek's hand, curls his pinkie around Derek's. "Eviction and beyond."

_~Derek. It's time to leave the Big Brother House.~_

Derek pulls back, hugs Lydia, and takes a step towards the stairs. 

Stiles runs after him, launches himself at him; Derek catches him, twirls him, kisses him. Squeezes him one last time before he turns once again to go up the stairs. 

Lydia gently pulls Stiles back. 

Derek runs up the stairs, stands at the top for the countdown, tall and calm and every inch the wolf. The doors open. The noise is immense. 

They slide shut.

The house goes still. Stiles licks dry lips and looks around. For the first time since they arrived on launch night, it looks more like a TV studio than a house. He sees familiar sofas and rugs and the stain where Jackson threw that glass of wine at the wall in week two. But now he also sees lights and cameras, the shadows in the mirrored walls. Chants of 'Stiles to win!' and 'Lydia to win!' ring in his ears.

"Stiles?"

Lydia's standing in front of the sofa. She looks pale. He rushes over to her.

"Hey, hey, it's okay," he says. "It's crazy as all hell but it's okay." He takes her hand; it's shaking, fingers fluttering in his palm like butterfly wings. "Come on, sit down."

They sit together on the sofa that suddenly feels way too huge. Stiles holds both her hands in his, and kisses her forehead. 

"You're going to be fine," he says. "We both are. You're gonna win the fuck out of this. You're going to Oxford. I can feel it."

"But you're not…"

"I don't want to win," Stiles says. "Remember? This is perfect. This is how it's meant to be."

Lydia shakes her head; Stiles holds her close, kisses her hair, listens to her heartbeat. He's terrified, but inside all that there's still a pool of calm, like there's a different Stiles now, who can see all this through the cameras. The panic's switched off and he breathes from one moment to the next. It's an eternity and a single heartbeat before Emma's voice comes back.

_~Hello Big Brother House. This is Emma.~_

"Hi, Emma." They pull apart a little, but Stiles can't bring himself to look at the camera; he keeps his eyes locked with Lydia's, and squeezes her hand. She does the same.

_~The public have made their choice. The person with the most votes, and the winner of Big Brother: Wolf Wars, is….._

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

… breathe, Stiles. Breathe….

Fifteen-

_~Lydia!~_

Lydia squeals and Stiles yells, "Thank God!" but it can't even start to express the wave of relief that washes over him. 

"Stiles, I'm sorry," says Lydia. "You-"

"Nonononono," says Stiles. "You deserve this. It's perfect. Okay? Come on, don't cry, your mascara'll run."

"Like I wouldn't wear waterproof mascara on a night like this," says Lydia, but she's smiling, she's beaming at him, and happiness bursts through the fading panic in Stiles' chest. 

_Stiles. You are runner-up of Big Brother: Wolf Wars. It's time for you to leave the house. Lydia, I'll get back to you soon._

"You'll be fine," says Stiles, and gives Lydia one last hug. 

She nods, squeezes him tight. "So will you," she says. "Go on. Go get 'em."

Stiles looks up the stairs. 

His dad's out there. Derek's out there. Scott's out there. His whole future is out there.

He's ready.

Stiles takes the stairs two at a time; he's got to the top before he realises Lydia ran up after him to give him his jacket. She helps him into it, smooths his lapels and straightens his tie, and runs back downstairs just before the countdown reaches 'one' and the doors open.

Stiles steps out into a blur of noise and flashing lights, and all he can hear is a roar of people screaming his name.

He's supposed to wait, he remembers. He's supposed to stand here and wave until the music starts. 

He glances to his left, sees his Dad in the crowd, and totally loses it. He jumps around waving, yearning to leap the barrier and get to him. Then he notices the balcony opposite, where Scott and Derek and the rest of the housemates are standing. Scott and Derek are wearing wolf ears, because, of course they are, and Scott's blowing kisses at him.

 _Starry Eyed_ starts to play, and Stiles sees Emma waiting on the catwalk below. It feels like he flies down the stairs; next thing he knows she's hugging him (she smells really good, like vanilla and rose) and then she puts him in front of the paparazzi and tells him to smile. He smiles. Tries to stand how Lydia taught him, shoulders back, hands in his pockets…. then Emma takes his hand and leads him down the catwalk, through the giant Big Brother Eye and into the studio.

*

(back from commercial break, Emma and Stiles sit opposite each other for interview)

Emma: Give it up for your runner up, Stiles!

(crowd erupts into applause in the studio and outside)

Stiles: Wow. Thanks.

Emma: How does it feel to come second?

Stiles: Er, one word? Relief? I didn't want to win, and Lydia- (catches sight of Lydia on the screen in front of him, which shows her pacing the empty house, taking deep breaths) - oh God, Lydia. I hope she's okay in there all alone.

Emma: Stiles, I have to tell you, the result was incredibly close: in fact it was the closest result we've ever had on Big Brother. It was less than one percent between you and Lydia. 

Stiles: Seriously?

Emma: You were ahead at several points over the past two days. 

Stiles: Shit. Well, I had a really, really narrow escape, then.

Emma: It doesn't make you feel even a little bit disappointed that you didn't win?

Stiles: Er, no. I mean it, I never thought I'd even get to the final week. The whole idea of the publicity of winning, the responsibility - Lydia is way, way better at that stuff than me. And she's been awesome throughout. 

Emma: You said that several times in the Diary Room, but people have speculated on Twitter that it was a game-plan, to get people to vote for you.

Stiles: What? That's crazy, no. No, seriously. None of this was about winning for me. I've just had a crazy summer, best time of my life, I've made the best friends and Derek….

(crowd erupts)

Stiles: (rakes his hair through his hair) Yeah, Derek. It's a no brainer. I won the guy, Lydia won the show. 

Emma: We saw that you held a torch for Lydia right from the beginning, and you looked very close at the end there. How deep are your feelings for her? Should Derek be worried?

Stiles: No, not at all. Lydia's amazing, truly, I love her so much. Way out of my league, anyway. (laughs) It was just a crush. I'm really proud to be her friend though. 

Emma: We should also mention your other big friend in the house, Scott.

Stiles: Scott's my bro! 

Emma: You certainly gave us a lot of bromance in the house. Let's take a look at some of the special times you shared together.

(VT rolls on plasma screen, showing Scott and Stiles in the sandpit, playing air-guitar, in the bath together, playing volleyball, the duck race, and finally Stiles in the diary room saying "Yeah, yeah, I know. I'll go and take him some water. He's going to have a wicked hangover.")

Stiles: Oh, man. 

Emma: Did you go into the house expecting to make friends?

Stiles: Me? No. It's not something that usually happens to me, you know, I'm kinda awkward. But I've met such amazing people in there, I can't believe it. 

Emma: Having said that, you didn't get on with everyone in the house, and you did get nominated a few times early on. 

Stiles: I hope I pissed off Peter. Man, that guy is evil. And Kate, especially because… yeah. But apart from that it's just… people don't always get me. I know I'm irritating sometimes.

Emma: Isaac did refer to you in the diary room once as a 'sarcastic little shit'. 

Stiles: I'm a hundred forty seven pounds of pale skin and fragile bone, okay? Sarcasm is my only defence.

(Emma and audience laugh.)

Emma: One really big thing happened to you in the house.

Stiles: (sheepish) Yeah, I guess you could say that.

Emma: We're talking, of course, about Derek. Let's take a little look at how your relationship blossomed.

(VT rolls on plasma screen, showing Stiles watching Kate kissing Derek, Stiles and Derek getting fake-evicted, kissing in the Wolf Den, the Store Room, dancing together, cuddling in the Sky Room, Stiles reciting Derek's letter to him in bed, and their hug goodbye just before Derek left the house.) 

Stiles: Oh my God.

Emma: I have to say, as a viewer it really felt we were watching you fall in love right before our eyes. Is that how it felt?

Stiles: You showed… that.

Emma: Ah, you mean your little tryst in the Store Room. How does it feel, watching that back?

Stiles: God, I don't know. Shit. Did you show any more than that, or…?

Emma: Stiles, Big Brother sees everything. Do you regret what happened that night?

Stiles: Regret it? No! No, not at all, it was… I mean, it happened at the end of a really bad day, probably my lowest point actually. I guess I got carried away, and we honest to God did not think we'd be filmed. Did Derek see that yet?

Emma: Derek said he had no regrets either, except that his mother saw it.

Stiles: Well, yeah. Yeah, me too, my dad, I mean. (glances at his father in the studio audience, cringes) Sorry, Dad!

Emma: Getting back to your romance with Derek, before it got quite so… physical. How did it feel?

Stiles: It felt… I don't know how to describe it. 

Emma: Were you attracted to him right from the start?

Stiles: No, I wasn't, actually. Although… maybe at a basic level, I mean you can see how gorgeous he is, right?

Emma: (eyes twinkling) Just a tad.

Stiles: Right. But I thought he was a bit of a dick at first. But when you get under that gruff, stupidly attractive exterior there's a really, really special person.

(audience 'aaaahhs')

Emma: The question almost seems redundant now, but will you continue to see Derek on the outside?

Stiles: I really, really hope so. It turns out he doesn't live far from me, so yeah, absolutely, I fully intend to see a great deal more of him. All of him. Many times, in many different positions.

(Emma and the audience laugh)

Emma: You'll be pleased to know he said exactly the same thing. Well, not about the, er, positions. But he's looking forward to seeing you outside of the house.

Stiles: (grins broadly)

Emma: Now, we've talked a lot about the good times, but you had some really difficult times in the house, especially during Big Brother's Evil Twist.

Stiles: Yeah. That was tough. 

Emma: You did understand, though, that it wasn't your fault the nominations were switched?

Stiles: Not at the time I didn't, no. It's really weird in there, you know, things get blown up out of proportion. Plus I wasn't sleeping too well, and I was really worried that Derek and Scott would suffer if I came across bad. It wasn't just the nominations, the worse part of that was Danny.

Emma: We can reassure you that Danny's fine now, he's here tonight with the other housemates.

(plasma screen flashes shot of Danny in the Housemate's section of the outside audience, next to Ethan)

Stiles: Oh, thank fuck for that. Shit, I swore! Sorry!

Emma: Don't worry, I can promise you we've heard worse. Stiles, it's been an absolute pleasure watching you, and I could talk to you all night, but we've run out of time. Here are your best bits.

(roll VT: Stiles' best bits - entrance, Scott and the sandpit, paralysed in the pool with Derek, entering the wolf den, kissing Derek for first time, Derek's volley-ball accident, dancing montage, Lydia and the shower, diary room after evil nominations twist, store room with Derek, letter from home, condom-volley-ball, rescuing Lydia, exit.)

*

Emma hugs and kisses him, (he's seriously never been hugged by so many different mostly-strangers than he has in the past eight weeks) and sends him off to the side of the stage, where Stiles can finally fall into his dad's fiercely protective arms, and drown in the relief and pleasure of the hug he's missed the most.

They don't have time to talk, though; Stiles is hustled out of the studio as they reset for Lydia's interview during the commercial break. He follows an absolutely enormous security guy up a set of iron steps to the Housemates gallery, where everyone hugs him and says well done, and then all of a sudden Derek's kissing him. It's their first kiss in the outside world, and in the distance Stiles can hear people cheering.

The countdown starts, and everyone's looking at the doors. 

Three…. two…. one…..

The doors open and there's Lydia, looking so beautiful, so glamorous and every inch a winner. Stiles watches as she comes down the stairs, has her photo taken, disappears through the big eye. Then the big screens come to life, and they watch Emma interview Lydia, although Stiles can't take any of it in. His focus darts from the crowd, to Derek, to Scott, back to the crowd, and whenever he sees Lydia on the screen all he can think is how weird it is to see her up there in LED lights, and how well it suits her.

When they start Lydia's best bits the housemates are ushered back down to the catwalk, ranged down each side to flank Lydia as she comes back through the Big Brother Eye. Allison and Scott, who are closest to the Eye, join hands to form an arch and the rest of them pick it up and do the same: when Lydia comes through there are fireworks and more hugging, and Stiles can't think of anything any more. They're playing Werewolves of London and he's dancing with Scott and Derek, and it's like the party at the end of the best summer of his entire life.

Stiles wants it to last forever.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final votes, for anyone who's interested, were:
> 
> Scott - 15 - 5%  
> Derek - 55 - 20%  
> Stiles - 105 - 37%  
> Lydia - 106 - 38%
> 
> Total votes cast: 281 from 268 voters. 
> 
> I'd sketched outlines of different versions of the last sections, and while this result really took me by surprise, it seems incredibly right, to me. As my wonderful beta said, it feels like everyone won something. :)
> 
> On 2nd March there will be the Reunion Show from four months after the final, (seemed mean to make you wait four months for it!) - and then this beast will be done. Thank you so much for following it, and I hope you don't mind too much if your favourite didn't win. ^_^;


	34. Reunion Show

**December 17th. 8.30pm.  
Channel 5. Big Brother: Wolf Wars - The Reunion.  
What have our favourite pack been doing since Lydia was crowned winner of our favourite reality show last summer? Rylan Clark-Neal brings us up to date in this sparkling Big Brother Special.**

It's technically still the house, but at the same time, it's not the house. It's doesn't feel like theirs anymore. They enter through the fire-escape and walk across the garden. The gazebo is covered in fake snow and fairy lights, and the pool is steaming in the cold air. There's a creepy elf statue where the water feature used to be. 

The big windows are gone, replaced with solid walls (or as solid as any walls are in the Big Brother House) and there's just one single door into the living area. 

Derek holds the door open for Stiles (because Derek is ridiculous) and then follows him inside. Some of the others are already there, sitting on the sofas which have been reupholstered in what looks like scarlet pleather with fur trim. The whole colour scheme has changed to red and gold, and in the corner by the stairs is a huge, kick-ass Christmas tree. 

Everyone gets up and there's hugging, but Stiles saw nearly all of them last night so it's not as emotional this time. Then he spots Lydia, who was caught up at some swanky math conference in Brazil and has only just arrived. She's wearing a little flowery skirt and a green sweater, and Stiles scoops her up in his arms and twirls her. He even manages not to drop her or fall over, which is pretty amazing. She squeals, takes a half-step back and smooths out his hoodie over his shoulders. 

"Stiles, look at you," she says. "You've gone all handsome."

"Unlikely," says Stiles. "Isn't this just too weird? The house, I mean."

Lydia nods. "The decor is questionable, to say the least."

"How was Rio?" 

Lydia's eyes light up. "Incredible. Just incredible. There was an amazing presentation about how mathematical models can be used to predict oncogene amplification."

"Okay, you lost me at 'presentation'. Oncowhatnow?"

"Oncogene - okay, basically it's how math can cure cancer, okay?"

"Well, that sounds incredibly cool."

"I know, right? How's college? How's Beacon Hills?"

"Pretty awesome. You still coming to visit for New Year's?"

"Wouldn't miss it. I told my mom, Christmas is hers, but New Year's belongs to my housemates."

"Well, some of them. We didn't invite Kate."

"Thank God." Lydia looks around. "Is she coming to this?"

"Not if what the producers told us last night was true. No Kate or Allison. No Peter, of course. Oh, and only one of the twins. I think they've got a satellite link for Allison, though."

"That's cool. I haven't Skyped with her since I left for Rio. Oh, hey, there's Kira!"

"Quick, Scott." Stiles elbows Scott in the ribs. "Look. Over there, talking to the camera guy."

Scott goes very, very still.

"Go talk to her, man!" says Stiles. "Whatcha waiting for?"

"Um… what if she's not interested any more? I haven't seen her since she left for New York."

"So how did you leave it?"

"Things were good. I just told her not to worry and she should go have fun at college."

"Oh, dude."

"Why? What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing's wrong with it, exactly, it can just be interpreted in a lot of different ways."

"Like what?"

"Well, like don't worry, we're not exclusive, go have fun _with other guys_. College guys."

Scott's eyes go wide with panic. "Oh dude."

"God, you two are mortifyingly clueless," says Lydia. "Hey! Kira! Over here!"

Scott tries (unsuccessfully) to hide his face behind a cushion as Kira comes towards them. 

"Hi," says Stiles. "How's New York?"

"Lonely," says Kira, tipping her head on one side and squinting at Scott. 

Scott pulls the cushion down to nose level. "Yeah?" 

"Very lonely, actually," says Kira.

The cushion is abandoned. "Cool," says Scott, beaming from ear to ear.

"Is Malia around?" asks Stiles.

"She couldn't make it," says Kira. "She's doing this family therapy show in LA with her mother. But she'll be there for New Year's."

"Family therapy? On TV?" says Stiles. "That doesn't sound like it would end well."

"Her mom wanted her to do it, her birth mom, that is, and there's all kinds of issues. It's a bit of a mess. But you know what Malia's like, she wouldn't walk away from it."

Stiles nods. It's weird, because he only knew Malia for a few days, but the whole Big Brother experience was so intense, it feels like he's known all of them for half his life. He worries about her.

The fire exit behind the stairs opens and the studio audience starts to file in. Stiles thinks he remembers some of them from Bit on the Side on Finale night, and he definitely recognises the drag queens. He waves at them, and they wave back. They take their seats over where the dining table used to be.

A runner comes over to the sofas with a tray of drinks. 

"And here's me thinking I'd never drink Prosecco again," says Lydia.

Derek takes two glasses and gives one to Stiles. Stiles wouldn't have been surprised if he'd attempted the drinking-with-entwined arms thing, because Derek is astonishingly romantic. But he doesn't. Just sips his drink and winks at Stiles.

"Don't worry," Derek says. "I won't get drunk and molest you."

"That's fine," says Stiles. "I promise I'll have my wicked way with you anyway, as soon as we get back to the hotel." He waggles his eyebrows, and Derek's eyebrows waggle back.

"God, you two are as sickening as ever," says Lydia. "Oh look, there's Danny!"

Stiles gives Danny a thumbs up from across the room. He still feels he owes the guy an apology, even though at the wrap party Stiles ended up drunk-crying on him and begging for forgiveness for, like, an hour.

That's another reason he should apologise, come to think of it.

Danny and the rest of the housemates are ushered over to the sofas, and there's more hugging. Erica and Boyd are holding hands, which is sweet. Cora punches Derek affectionately on the arm. Isaac hangs back, shoulders up to his ears with nerves. He's wearing a rather fetching cardigan with reindeer on it. 

Derek catches Isaac's eye, beckons for him to come and sit with them. He ends up sitting next to Scott and Kira, telling them what it's like living in France, and how Allison's doing. Scott chats happily, because Scott wouldn't know a grudge if it punched him in the face. Which Stiles finds adorable and exasperating all at once.

One of the producers comes over, carrying a clipboard. Her hair is mostly scraped back in a ponytail, apart from the bits that have escaped to straggle fluffily around her face, giving her a chaotic air. She squints earnestly at them. "We'll be starting in ten minutes, all right my lovelies?"

"Sure," says Derek. 

"It's lovely to have you back. Now, did they tell you, no swearing, keep the sexual references to a minimum? We're pre-watershed."

Stiles wishes she hadn't said that. Nothing is more likely to make him curse more than knowing he isn't supposed to. 

"Just remember your dad's watching this," says Derek. "And my mom. And they've suffered enough."

"Gotcha." Derek's mom is lovely, and she's been nothing but sweet to Stiles so far. She even baked him cookies. But she has the look of a woman you really, really don't want to cross. Stiles is doing his utmost not to test that theory, to the point where she had to tell him not to bring her flowers and chocolates every single time he visited.

_~Housemates. Please take your places on the sofas.~_

Everyone laughs, except for Stiles, who yells "Yo! I missed you, Girl-Bro! Didja miss me?"

_~Welcome back, housemates. Big Brother is very pleased to see you.~_

"Aww," says Stiles to Derek. "I really do miss her, y'know."

"I miss the Diary Room," says Derek, sitting down and pulling Stiles with him. "Best therapy I've ever had."

That's saying something, because Stiles now knows that Derek has had a lot of therapy. Needed it, with his whole disastrous relationship history. It's probably how he managed to be so level-headed in the house, come to think of it. 

They all settle onto the sofas, and fall quiet as the TV people do their thing: count their countdowns, scuttle about in a barely-controlled frenzy. They play the Big Brother theme music, and the opening sequence shows on the plasma screen. Which has a sprig of mistletoe over the top of it.

_**Welcome to the Big Brother: Wolf Wars Reunion Show! Here's your host, Mr Rylan Clark-Neal!** _

'Santa Baby' starts playing; the Diary Room door opens and Rylan appears to rapturous (and impressively spontaneous) applause. He lip-syncs, shimmying down the stairs. 

"I love Rylan," says Cora.

Stiles tries, and fails, not to move with the music, and ends up swaying in time and snapping his fingers. Scott joins in. Derek ignores both of them and keeps his eyes front, because Derek is cool at all times. (Except when he's tired and cranky after long photo shoots, but Stiles has learned to notice and be a grown-up then. Almost. Well, last time he made him tea and brought him a blanket, and okay, that mostly confused Derek, but hey, confused!Derek is better than cranky!Derek.)

"Hello, studio audience!" says Rylan, as the music fades. "Welcome to Big Brother's Bit on the Side Christmas Reunion!"

The audience whoops and claps.

"And please give a big BBOTTS welcome to your Big Brother's Wolf Wars Housemates!"

Stiles never knows whether to clap or not on these occasions. Technically people are clapping him, but they're also clapping the others, and he's all for that. So he ends up kind of half-heartedly slapping his hands together before he gives up in embarrassment. 

Derek smiles fondly at him.

Scott is clapping as hard as a sea lion in the zoo.

"Now," says Rylan. "We can't wait to catch up with all the news and hear what you've been up to over the past four months - yes, I'm not kidding, it's four months since you lot declared Lydia your winner! But first, let's have a reminder of the amazing entertainment you all gave us last summer."

The plasma screen plays the highlights video, all the clips that Stiles has watched more times on YouTube than he cares to remember. It feels different, though, here in the house where it all happened. The memories are sharper. It feels more real. 

There's the one bit, with Peter in the diary room, that still sends a chill down Stiles' spine. 

"Are you kidding me?" says Peter, who looks ten times as evil on screen. "You made Scott a 'true' alpha? Are you serious? He's an idiot. They're all idiots. If it was up to me I'd evict the lot of them and start again. There'll only ever be one alpha of this house, and it's me, d'you hear me? Me!" His voice is raised to screaming pitch. "I am the alpha!"

The audience is laughing, but Stiles isn't, and none of the other housemates are, either.

The VT moves on to other subjects, including, of course, the Store Cupboard, although in this version they only show him and Derek kissing, thank God. It's really strange, seeing yourself kiss. Derek's all handsome and pretty about it, while Stiles' nose smushes to one side and he makes odd little snuffly noises. (Derek says it's hot, but Stiles can't see it himself.)

All in all, Stiles is glad when the highlights clip part of the proceedings is over.

There's a round of applause. "Well, guys, you certainly gave us a summer to remember. Was it good for you, too?"

They all say yes, although some voices are less certain than others. Derek hooks his pinky around Stiles', and seriously, the man could not be more ridiculous.

Or awesome.

"So, Lydia, let's start with you, our winner! How have things been for you since Big Brother?"

"Pretty amazing, thanks Rylan. Really busy. I'm reading Math at Oxford now, and I'm having a great time. But I'm also looking forward to going back to the US for the holidays. I miss my mom and my friends a lot. Totally worth it, though, and Oxford is incredible."

"I have to say, you must be the smartest contestant we've ever had on Big Brother." Rylan turns to the studio audience. "You might not have realised this but Lydia scored as a genius in her Mensa application. Not only that, she broke their records!" The crowd whoops and hollers, and Rylan turns back to Lydia. "There is one question on everyone's lips, Lydia." He pauses for dramatic effect. "Will you be appearing in University Challenge any time soon?"

The audience laughs, and Lydia smiles, dimples popping. "I have applied to be considered, as it happens," she says. "But there's a lot of clever people in my college, so who knows whether I'll get on the team or not."

Stiles has no doubt whatsoever that she will.

"Well, best of luck, Lydia. The Big Brother family will be cheering you on. You'll do better than me, I can't even understand the questions on that show, never mind answer 'em. Now, to our runner up, Stiles!"

Stiles' heart starts pounding, the familiar surge of adrenalin coursing through him. "Hey, Rylan."

"We have to ask, and you'll know where this is headed… how's the bromance going?" Rylan pauses while the audience laughs. "Are you and Scott Skyping from baths filled with rose petals every night?"

"Sorry, Rylan, no." The audience 'awwwwws' their disappointment, and Stiles can't help grinning. "But only 'cos we don't have to. We're actually still roomies."

The place erupts with surprise and applause, and a lot of catcalls from the drag queens.

"You're kidding me!" says Rylan. "Scott, is this true? How did it happen?"

"Hey, Rylan," says Scott. "Yes, it is true. It was just like… I was supposed to stay home and go to the local community college, but when I got back nothing felt right. My boss had been saying I should consider training to be a veterinarian for a long time, but I never thought I was smart enough. That kind of changed over the summer, and my mom agreed, so I enrolled in BHU in the fall, and everything kind of fell into place. Stiles and I got a place together on campus at the last minute, and, yeah. Roomies." He and Stiles high five: hand slap, wiggle, dissolve.

There's a round of applause, and Rylan clasps his hands to his heart. "That has got to be one of the sweetest happy endings we've ever had on this show, I kid you not."

"Easier on the phone bills, too," says Stiles, and winks at Scott.

"So, I have to ask," Rylan says. "Derek! Where do you fit into this picture? Are we talking threesomes, or…?"

"Absolutely not," says Derek, his eyebrows set in a very serious line, deadpan.

It feels like the whole studio is holding its breath. Stiles fights an overwhelming urge to giggle.

"So, you and Stiles….?" says Rylan. "Are you….?"

"Boyfriends of The World," says Stiles, totally unable to keep his mouth shut. The audience erupts, Derek kisses him and the noise just gets louder. Stiles' mind fizzes out a bit, because Derek's mouth is soft and warm and short-circuits his brain every, single time. Even after four months.

When he comes back to the world, the whooping has died down and they're in a commercial break. Stiles downs half a glass of Prosecco and relaxes a bit. 

After the break Rylan interviews the rest of the housemates, and Stiles discovers that Boyd and Erica have taken over an abandoned bank to convert into a shelter for runaways; Isaac is trying to learn French and gets on really well with Allison's father; and Ethan and Danny split up after the press attention got too much for Danny. 

Stiles raises an eyebrow at that: they were holding hands earlier, after all. But, whatever. He's learned that a lot of people cope by lying to the press as much as the press lie about them. He's done it himself, when he needed to protect his dad, or Derek. It fucks with your head a bit, and is yet another reason Stiles is glad he did Reality TV in a foreign country and didn't win. 

After the next commercial break, a stagehand runs on with a huge, fake iPad covered with glitter. He passes it to Rylan.

"Now it's time to take some questions!" Rylan says, stroking the iPad. "In just a moment we'll be reading some tweets from fans of the show, but first, studio audience! Let me come to you. Who's got a question for our wolfy housemates?"

The first one is from a woman with pink hair tied up in a polka-dot bow. She asks if things get hot for Stiles and Derek on a full moon.

Stiles smiles politely, and Derek tells her he mostly controls himself.

Which is a lie. Derek can barely ever control himself around Stiles. Stiles' smile turns a little smug.

The next question is from a skinny, pretty-looking boy on the third row. He has huge gauges in his ears, and eyelashes that rival Lydia's for flutteriness. 

"I was wondering if your opinion of Peter changed at all, after you came out?"

The rest of the audience goes 'whooooo' and there's a few nervous titters.

"Okay, well, Lydia," says Rylan. "You were pretty close to Peter in the beginning. Any thoughts on that?"

"Anyone in their right mind can see that Peter's a highly manipulative sociopath," says Lydia. 

"Which Big Brother can neither confirm, nor deny," says Rylan. "But at the start, you did seem quite friendly with him." 

Stiles holds his breath. He's seen that look on Lydia's face before. It appeared during a conversation about showers and ketchup. 

Even Rylan looks disconcerted.

"I don't think friendly is exactly the right word," Lydia says. "Peter was very persistent in trying to attract my attention, and I went along with it when it seemed beneficial to do so. Believe me, I was never under any misapprehension that he was in any way beneficent. The man's dangerous, and I'm glad he's in prison."

The audience gasps, and Stiles gasps right along with them. After the briefing they'd had, they all knew they weren't supposed to go there. And this is a live show.

Rylan quickly says, "I have to say, because legal proceedings are currently under way, Big Brother cannot comment on that particular situation. Now, another question, anybody?"

"I knew all along!" says Stiles. 

"Oh God," says Derek. 

"Seriously. I always know an evil stalker dude when I see one. Ask Scott."

"He's kinda right," says Scott.

One of the drag queens stands up and punches the air. "Yo Stiles! You tell it how it is, girl!"

There's wild applause and laughter, until Rylan shushes everyone. He shoots Stiles a quick but icy glare. He must have taken lessons from Lydia. "Dontcha just love live TV? Of course, we can neither confirm nor deny whether anyone has stalked anyone else. Everyone's entitled to their opinions, until our legal team says no, and believe me, they are screaming in my ear right now. Let's have another question, shall we? From Twitter, this time."

Rylan clears his throat, and pretends to scroll on the glittery iPad. "Here we go. @werewolfbakery wants to know, does Stiles still make Derek bread, and is he going to write a recipe book?"

This is a question that comes up a lot, so Stiles can answer without too much danger. "Yeah, I do make bread most days. It's a really therapeutic thing to do, y'know? No plans for a recipe book any time soon, though, I'm kinda busy with school and," he darts a little look at Derek, "the big guy."

"He knows to put sun dried tomatoes in when I'm mad at him," says Derek, with a wink.

That's a lie. Well, mostly. 

"And when I want to jump your bones," says Stiles.

That earns him a lot of whooping and another 'you go, girl!' 

"Will we be seeing you on the Great British Bake Off this summer, Stiles?" says Rylan.

"No," says Stiles. "Because I'm not British, for one thing, but also I'm kinda happy to stay out of the limelight. In case you haven't noticed, I tend to get myself in trouble."

Rylan grins at him. 

"The next question is for Scott. @truealphagurl98 wants to know, who was your real love in the house, Kira or Allison?"

Scott looks shocked for a moment, and Stiles really feels for him. It's a brutal question. Allison went too deep, and Kira's too new. But Scott makes a quick recovery, smiles at the camera.

"That's easy!" he says. "Stiles was absolutely my real love in the house!"

Rylan lets the laughter roll; Stiles and Scott jump up, high five and play kiss chicken (which Stiles totally wins) and it feels natural when they move on.

"One last Twitter question," says Rylan. "This time from @realitylycan, and it's for Jackson."

"Yo," says Jackson.

"@realitylycan wants to know, do you have any regrets from your time in the house?"

"Some," says Jackson, his voice a lot softer than Stiles remembers. "I regret not listening to Lydia more. I think I'd have been there a lot longer if I had."

Rylan looks straight at Jackson, his expression gentle and far more genuine than usual. "Are you sorry, for what happened with Matt?"

"Of course! God, yes, that guy was such a douche. I was glad he got thrown out."

"A little bird tells me Lydia isn't the only one who never really left England," says Rylan.

"My dad moved the family over here just after the show," says Jackson. "We live here in London now. It's cool."

"And do you get to see much of your fellow housemates?"

Stiles can see exactly where Rylan's headed with this. He glances at Lydia, but she's twiddling a strand of hair around her finger and not looking at anyone in particular.

"I hang out with Lydia sometimes," says Jackson. "Just as friends."

Stiles snorts. 

He's had his suspicions since Lydia went to watch Jackson at some charity soccer game last month. She came back all coy and not wanting to talk about it. Stiles isn't exactly wild about the idea of them maybe dating. But at the end of the day, whatever makes Lydia happy is fine by him. 

He'll just watch Jackson like a hawk, is all.

The rest of the show goes in a blur, as he's found these things often do. Stiles' favourite bit is Allison's satellite interview from France. She looks confident and happy in a way she never really was in the house. Stiles flings an arm around Scott's shoulders, keeping him close. Stiles likes Kira, but he knows that what Scott and Allison had was pretty amazing, and he wonders, sometimes, if maybe they could have had the happy ending he and Derek did, if things had been different.

At the end there's a piece from a guy called 'Dr Dance', who is, according to Rylan's introduction, and actual college professor and an expert in the psychology of dance. He analyses their dance moves from their time in the house. Stiles long ago accepted that his dance style was about as far from cool as you could get, but Dr Dance describes it as an indication of his impulsive, open emotions, which doesn't sound too bad. He describes Derek as 'wolfishly constrained', which is hilarious.

Well, Stiles thinks it's hilarious, anyway. Derek's eyebrows differ.

Then a guy who just won the last ever X-Factor show in the UK comes on and sings a seriously cheesy Christmas song that Stiles never wants to hear ever again. They all get pulled up to dance at the end, and Stiles ends up waltzing with Dr Dance.

Oddly, it's not the craziest thing he's ever done in his life.

*

The show's done, and the house is empty, apart from Stiles, Lydia, Derek, Scott and Kira, and a few stagehands trying to get the fake snow and glitter out of the carpet. 

"Does anyone want to go eat?" says Kira. "There's a great little place in Covent Garden that I went to with Malia."

"So long as it's not sushi," Scott says to her. She giggles. (Scott tried sushi for the first time at the wrap party. It didn't go well, and apparently it's an in joke now.)

"Italian," says Kira.

"I can handle Italian," says Stiles, with an eyebrow waggle. 

"Not on my watch," says Derek. "No handling of any Italians, Stiles."

"Hey, Derek? Is that you getting all possessive on me? Look at you, all fierce and wolfy."

Derek growls at him. Stiles does his best to make sure it doesn't show on his face how enormously that turns him on.

"Come on," says Lydia. "Let's get out of here before they sweep us up with the glitter."

"Great," says Scott. "I'm starving."

The others head off towards the door, but Stiles hangs back for a moment, taking in the empty shell that was his home for eight of the best weeks of his life. It rings with the echoes of laughter and yelling, and although it's dark except for a few working lights, and chilled by December air, Stiles vividly remembers the sunshine, the long summer nights, the warm summer days. The freedom of it all.

Derek takes his hand. "C'mon," he says. "Time to move on."

Stiles looks up at the ceiling, at all the wires and the speakers and the cameras, and winks.

"Thanks, Big Brother. It was a blast."

He sighs, and follows Derek across the living area. Just as Stiles steps out of the door, there's a hiss from the speakers, and he pauses.

_~Goodbye, Stiles.~_

Stiles smiles, his eyes misty with tears. 

"Goodbye, Girl-Bro."

The door closes behind them, and the Big Brother house goes dark.

_~Fin~_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (If anyone wants to know what happened when Derek and Stiles finally got back to the hotel after they left the house, I wrote [a porntastic coda](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6141083) about just that.)
> 
> And... that's it, all done! Thank you so much for reading. This fic took a lot of time to write and was a bit of an adventure, and I hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> Thanks for all the kudos and comments. They mean the world to me.


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